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INDIANS of the WIGWAMS 



LAP-PA WIN-SOE 
Leni-lenape Delaware 
Chief 

Painted in 1737 





INDIANS of the 
WIGWAMS 


A Story of Indian Life 

by 

Therese O. Deming 

It 

Illustrated by- 
Edwin W. Deming 



Edited by Milo B. Hillegas 
Professor of Education, Teachers College 
Columbia University 


JUNIOR PRESS BOOKS 

ALBERT^WHITMAN 

crico 

CHICAGO 


1938 



ftwzy 

•^ 1/4 %& 

Copyright, 1938, by 
Albert Whitman & Company 



Printed in the U.S.A. 


122381 





-Se. - 






CONTENTS 


Page 

An Indian Storyteller. 9 

In the Wilderness. 22 

The Warning of the Owls. 37 

The Search for a New Home. 54 

The Bone Game . 66 

A Wilderness Council. 81 

Warriors Become Peacemakers. 92 

A Day in the Forest. 107 

Making New Boats. 120 

The Wicked Naked Bear. 133 

Training Boys for Manhood. 152 

The Fishing Camp. 169 

A Lesson in Hunting. 183 

A Bear That Was a Coward. 196 

The Great Fall Hunt.. 211 

The Feast of the Harvest Moon. 226 






















The Crier 












AN INDIAN STORYTELLER 

One winter day a crier walked through the 
village that was the home of the Leni-lenape 
Indians. He beat his tom-tom and called out 
upon the frosty air that the younger boys were 
to go to the wigwam of the Storyteller. Then 
he hurried back to his own home, for it was 
very cold. It was the moon, or month, in which 
mice and squirrels come out of their holes to 
see if they can find anything to eat—the coldest 
moon of the year. 

Little Bear and Star, two boys who had always 
been companions, were out playing with their 
bows and arrows even if the icy air did try to 
make their fingers stiff. As soon as they heard 
the crier call, they ran to Little Bear’s wigwam 
and left their playthings with his mother. All 
the boys enjoyed listening to the Storyteller, and 
they went gladly to his wigwam. 

As the boys ran through the village, each held 
a fur robe closely about himself, the fur side next 
to his body. It was biting cold, and young 
Indian boys wore no clothes except breech clouts 


9 


under their robes, some of which were made of 
elk skin and others from the hides of deer or 
bears. 

When the boys reached the Storyteller’s wig¬ 
wam, they entered and remained quietly stand¬ 
ing. Before them a bright fire burned in the 
center of the room on the dirt floor. Smoke 
curled lazily up and out of the smoke hole in 
the roof. 

The Storyteller was sitting on the floor, fac¬ 
ing the fire. He was a proud old man who had 
been a great warrior and hunter in his younger 
days. Although he never mentioned them, the 
other men of the tribe often told stories of his 
brave deeds. The young boys greatly respected 
and liked him. Now it was the old man’s duty 
to teach the young boys the story of their fore¬ 
fathers. 

Like all the warriors of his tribe, the Story¬ 
teller had shaved both sides of his head, leaving 
only a roach of long hair on the top from the 
forehead back. This was his scalp lock. Every 
warrior was very proud of his scalp lock. Earlier 
that day the Storyteller’s wife had carefully 
combed his hair and tied it in a bag which she 
had made for this purpose. While a warrior 


10 


was at home, he protected his scalp lock in this 
way, but when he went out, he always took off 
the bag and let the long lock hang down his 
neck. The boys thought that this was a very 
attractive way of wearing hair, and each was 
eager for the time to come when he could have 
the sides of his head shaved in the same way. 

At first the Storyteller did not speak to the 
boys, but after all had arrived, he welcomed them 
and invited them to sit near the fire. The boys 
did not pass between the old man and the fire. 
It would have been very impolite for a child to 
have done that. Red children were taught to be 
polite and respectful to their elders. The old 
man also invited the boys to drop their fur robes 
so that they would not be too warm. 

When all were quiet, the Storyteller solemnly 
threw some tobacco into the fire. The boys knew 
that he was offering his prayer and theirs to 
Gitche Manito, the Great Spirit of these In¬ 
dians. The fire was the symbol of the Sun 
Manito. These Indians did not worship fire, but 
they believed that the spirit of the fire carried 
their prayers to the manitos. When that tobacco 
had burned, the Storyteller carefully threw more 
tobacco on the fire, this time as a prayer to the 


II 




twelve manitos who were the helpers of the 
Great Spirit. While the old Indian did all this, 
the young boys scarcely moved. 

After the prayers were over, the old man said, 
“I am going to tell you about the Long Ago. 
You must know and remember all that has hap¬ 
pened to our people. Today I shall tell you how 
they came to live on this earth. I shall tell the 
story to you as I heard it when I was young.” 

The old warrior had scratched a circle in the 
hard dirt floor in front of him as he talked. Now 
he drew two legs on each side of the circle and 
added a head and a tail. The young boys watched 
and listened very carefully. 

“This is the sign of the great tortoise,” the 
Storyteller began. “He is lying in water, which 
is all around him.” The old Indian passed his 
hand over the floor all around the picture to 
show that this was water. “At first,” he went 
on, “this earth was flat and was entirely covered 
with water. The tortoise lived under the water, 
but he slowly raised his great round back higher 
and higher. At last it was out of the water, and 
it became dry. That is how the great tortoise 
made the earth upon which we live. 

“The earth grew bigger and bigger, and it also 


12 


The Sign oj the Great Tortoise 



grew deeper and deeper. But there were no man 
people. Mother Earth became lonesome; so she 
made some man people to live in her bosom. It 
was dark there all the time, but Mother Earth 
took good care of her people. They never went 
hungry, for they hunted mice, which they caught 
in their hands. 

“The man people lived and hunted in the 
bosom of Mother Earth for a long, long time. 
They did not know that Gitche Manito was mak¬ 
ing a better home for them on top of the earth. 
There He was creating all the good things that 
He intended for their use when they came to 
live in the light. 

“One day two hunters needed food, and they 
set out to search for mice. They had not gone 
far when, in the distant darkness, they saw a tiny 
ray of light. It seemed to come down from the 
top of the earth. Those men had never before 
seen light, and they did not know what it was. 
At first they were frightened. They moved close 
together and talked, and finally decided to find 
out what this strange object might be. 

“They walked ahead carefully until they 
reached the white spot of light, which, they saw, 
came through an opening above their heads. 


14 


The two hunters were brave. They helped each 
other crawl up through the opening so that they 
could discover where it led. They hoped that 
they would find a new and better hunting 
ground. 

“The light grew brighter and brighter as they 
slowly crawled upward. The men were sur¬ 
prised to find that they were able to see where 
they were going. At last they reached the top of 
the earth, and there they saw the great, light 
home that Gitche Manito had prepared for their 
people. 

“A strange animal was lying on the ground 
near where they first stood. They had never seen 
anything like it; so they did not know that it 
was a deer. It had been hard work to climb up 
through the opening, and both men were tired 
and hungry. They decided to see if the meat of 
the strange beast might be used for food. They 
prepared and ate just a little, and found that it 
was very good. The hunters then cut a few pieces 
of meat to take with them, and returned to their 
dark home in the bosom of Mother Earth. 

“The people were very much pleased with the 
new food. Everyone thought that it was much 
better than the mice that they had been eating. 


15 




They also liked the description of the wonder¬ 
ful, new country that the hunters had found, and 
felt that they would like to make it their home. 
But because it was always dark where they were 
living and they had to feel their way about, they 
were afraid to start for the new country. 

“At last the mother of one of the two hunters 
became impatient. She thought that if there 
were a place where she could see, she did not 
want to continue to live in darkness. She told 
her son to lead the way. Then she called all the 
people together and told them to follow. 

“The people did follow the old mother and 
her hunter son, and when they reached the open¬ 
ing, they, too, saw the light. Like the hunters, 
they helped each other crawl upward to the top 
of the earth. There they saw the wonderful land 
that the hunters had described. The people could 
hardly believe that their eyes were really seeing 
things, not only close by but far off in the 
distance. 

“The man people never went back to their 
home in the bosom of Mother Earth. They have 
been living on the back of the great tortoise ever 
since, for the tortoise, you know, still holds the 
earth on his back.” 


16 


The Storyteller stopped speaking and looked 
at his silent, young listeners. They were as seri¬ 
ous as he, and he was very much in earnest. He 
went on with his story. 

“The people that Mother Earth made, and who 
came through the opening, were our forefathers. 
They found all the things that Gitche Manito 
had made for them and for us. The whole world 
was new to them, and they had to learn first-hand 
about all the things that they found. But we 
do not, for our forefathers were wise. They re¬ 
membered and told the things that they learned 
to their children, just as I am telling you. 

“Our forefathers told us that the rattlesnake 
still lives in the bosom of Mother Earth. They 
said that the rattlesnake is the grandfather of 
our people. He protected our forefathers, and 
he protects us. He always warns us when danger 
is near. With his rattle he tells us to be careful. 
Never hurt a rattlesnake. If you do, his rela¬ 
tives will soon know, and then his people will 
make war upon us. They are a dangerous enemy. 
Always remember to be respectful to any mem¬ 
ber of the rattlesnake family. 

“You must always honor the wolf. Our fore¬ 
fathers believed that a wolf killed the deer and 


*7 





left it for the two hunters to find when they 
crawled to the top of the earth. One band of 
our people is named in his honor. The sign of 
the wolf is a round paw. This sign is always 
painted on the wigwams of those who belong 
to the wolf band, just as a turtle is painted on 
ours. 

“There is another great thing that our fore¬ 
fathers learned and told to their children that 
no Leni-lenape Indian should ever forget, and 
it is this: The Great Spirit, who prepared this 
earth for us, gave life to everything. You must 
not think that you are better than the animals, 
birds, fish, trees, and other things to which life 
was given. All are equal. Perhaps the man peo¬ 
ple are stronger, for Gitche Manito made them 
the chiefs, but our shadows will meet with theirs 
when we go to join our forefathers. We are now 
an enemy of the animal people, and they are at 
war with us. That is why we hunt them, and 
it is why they hunt us. In the Happy Southland 
all will be equal.” 

The old Storyteller stopped speaking, and all 
was silent in the wigwam. One or two of the 
boys moved a little very quietly. When the old 
man saw this, he said, “I have kept you a long 
18 


time today. Do not forget what I have told you 
about our people.” 

Then he again put tobacco on the fire as an 
offering to the Great Spirit. After it had 
burned, he said, “Wrap your robes around you 
and run to your wigwams.” 

The boys thanked the old warrior for his 
stories and quietly went out of his wigwam. 

It was late afternoon. In this cold moon the 
sun went to rest very early. North Wind sent 
his cold breath against the boys, and they 
wrapped their robes more closely around their 
bodies so that the Wind People could not get 
inside. Each little boy hurried toward his home, 
where he knew he would find the warm welcome 
of a bright fire. 

As usual, Star and Little Bear walked together. 
When they reached Little Bear’s wigwam, Star 
went in with him. He wanted to get the bow 
and arrows he had left there. 

“There is yet time,” said Little Bear. “Shall 
we finish making the string for our game of qua- 
quallis?” 

Star agreed, for all Indian boys, and even their 
fathers, enjoyed playing that game when the 
cold kept them in their wigwams. To play the 


19 




game, the boys needed a flat bone with a hole 
through its middle. A string was fastened to one 
end of the bone, and the other end of the string 
was tied to the middle of a stick that had one 
pointed end. The game was to hold the stick 
by its blunt end, throw the bone as high as the 
string would permit, and try to catch the bone 
on the pointed end of the stick through the hole 
in its middle. 

Soon the two boys were rolling strands of 
wild hemp up and down their shins with the 
palms of their hands. That made a strong, tight 
string. Star found a suitable stick and sharpened 
one end while Little Bear went to the part of 
the wigwam where he kept all his treasures. 
There he found his old string and bone. The 
boys unfastened the playing bone and tied it to 
the new string. Then the game was ready. 

Next the boys had to decide who would have 
the first turn. Little Bear had a small flat stone 
with a red spot on one side, and he tossed this 
stone into the air. It fell with the painted side 
toward the ground. Star shook the stone on the 
palms of his hands a long time before he threw 
it into the air. This time it fell with the little red 
eye looking up at Star. It was his first turn. 


20 


Star threw the bone and tried to catch it on the 
pointed stick. He failed. Little Bear then tried, 
and did no better. It was never easy to catch 
the bone, and the boys were out of practice. 
They had not played the game for a long time. 
Now they took turns until each had caught the 
bone once. Then Star said good night and ran 
to his home. 

On the way he thought about all that he had 
learned that afternoon. He was eager to tell his 
father the wonderful story. It had made all the 
boys very proud of their people, and it also made 
them wish that they were old enough to give 
the war cry and say, “We are of the Leni-lenape.” 




IN THE WILDERNESS 


Little Bear had seen only seven summers; yet 
his father had given him a name, and a feast had 
been held in his honor. Often Indian boys were 
not given special names until they were much 
older than Little Bear, but one night his father 
had had a dream in which a cub bear came and 
sat beside him. When the father awakened, he 
called his boy and told him about the dream 
that he had just had. Then he gave his son the 
name Little Bear. A day or two later, the father 
invited the people of the village to a feast in 
honor of his son. The little boy was told that he 
would be known by this name until he was old 
enough to make the great fast, during which he 
would dream or see a vision of something that 
he would adopt as his real name. 

One morning, just as the sun was lighting the 
eastern sky, Little Bear jumped out of his warm 
bed of furs and wrapped his bearskin robe about 
him. It was still a cold moon, but not the coldest. 
The moon when the mice and squirrels come out 
of their holes to see if they can find anything 


22 


to eat had passed, and the Frog Moon had come. 

Little Bear ran to the fire. His mother was 
seated beside it, pounding corn in her stone mor¬ 
tar. She had already put some cornmeal into the 
water boiling in the clay pot that sat on the hot 
coals. Now she was preparing meal for corn 
bread. All Indian children loved hot corn bread. 
Little Bear watched his mother put the flat bread 
stones into the fire. When they were hot, she 
went to the jar in which she kept her dried berries 
and took a handful, which she mixed into the wet 
cornmeal. Then she shaped this mixture into 
tiny loaves. These she laid on thin pieces of 
bark, which she placed on the hot stones. Little 
Bear could hardly wait until the delicious bread 
was ready to eat. 

Long before daybreak the father had gone to 
hunt in the wilderness. He wanted iresh meat 
for his early meal. While they were waiting for 
the hunter to return, the mother used the time 
to teach her boy some of the things that he would 
need to know if he were to become as great a 
warrior and hunter as his father. Little Bear 
sat on his mat before the fire and listened 
thoughtfully to all his mother said. 

“My son,” she began, “you are still a small 


23 



boy, but you must always remember to be thank¬ 
ful to our Gitche Manito, who gave you life. 
He also gave life to the animals and plants, the 
birds and fish, and even to the rocks. He put 
everything here for some purpose. Perhaps He 
means that some time you will be greatly re¬ 
spected and do great things for your people. 

“Never forget that the Great Spirit gave 
us this beautiful country. Here we can raise 
our crops every time that the sun comes back 
and awakens Mother Earth. We also have 
plenty of game and all the wood we need. 
Gitche Manito gave this land to our fore¬ 
fathers. They must have been grateful, for 
He did not take it away from them. Now we 
are enjoying it. If you will always remember 
that everything has been given to us by the 
Great Spirit, then, when your father and I have 
gone to join our fathers in the Happy South¬ 
land, you and your children will be as happy 
as we have been. The manitos look down upon 
us and watch all that we do. Always give thanks 
to them, and remember that all good comes to 
us through their kindness.” 

Little Bear knew that all his mother said 
was true. He had heard it often before. In- 


24 



The Mother Cooking Cornmeal 







dian fathers and mothers never let their chil¬ 
dren forget that they must be thankful to the 
Great Spirit for all that they had. The children 
were taught to be kind to each other and to help 
anyone who was in need. They were also 
taught to listen whenever their elders were talk¬ 
ing to each other or to them. 

Little Bear thanked his mother and told her 
he would try to remember all she had said. He 
was very hungry, and it was hard for him to 
wait for his father to come home from the for¬ 
est. His mother took one of the tiny loaves 
from the fire and broke off a piece for him. 

As he was eating it, his father came into the 
wigwam, carrying two rabbits. The mother 
skinned the rabbits and laid the skins aside. 
They would help to make warm blankets. In 
a short time the rabbits were roasting over the 
fire. Little Bear then watched his mother put a 
handful of dried berries into the pot of boiled 
cornmeal. He liked that. After stirring the 
mixture a minute, the mother gave Little Bear 
and his father each a bowl of the good cooked 
cereal, into which she put some maple sugar. 
When they were served, she filled her own 
bowl, and by the time the family had eaten 


26 


their cornmeal, the rabbits were ready to eat. 

Little Bear ate very fast and was first to finish 
the meal. He wanted to go out to play imme¬ 
diately, but he knew that he must wait while 
his father put tobacco on the fire to thank the 
Great Spirit for all the things that He had given 
to them. When the prayer was over, Little Bear 
ran out of the wigwam to find his friend. They 
had planned to go to the wilderness that day. 

Star was waiting for Little Bear. He had fin¬ 
ished his early meal long before Little Bear’s 
father had returned with the rabbits. Now he 
had been waiting for a long time, and he was 
cold. 

“Why did you not come in and wait near the 
fire, friend?” asked Little Bear. “You could 
have had a nice piece of meat with me.” 

Star replied, “Your mother was talking to 
you. She was telling you about the kindness of 
the Great Spirit. It would not have been polite 
for me to interrupt her; so I waited out here.” 

“I’m sorry that you got cold,” said Little 
Bear. “Let us try to run faster than we did 
yesterday. That will make you warm again. 
After you are warm, we can get our bows and 
arrows. Perhaps we can find some meat to 


27 


bring home with us and surprise our fathers.’ 

Little Bear and Star ran until Star was warm. 
Then they went to their wigwams for their bows 
and arrows, and started for the wilderness. It 
was not far from the village. They knew that 
they must not go far unless they were with their 
fathers. 

The day was cold and the snow was deep, 
but the boys found many tracks that the animals 
and the birds had left in their search for food. 

“The animal people must be hungry if they 
are searching for food,” said Little Bear. “Here 
are some squirrel tracks.” 

“The squirrel did not come out to hunt for 
food,” replied Star. “He gathers enough dur¬ 
ing the Harvest Moon to last him all through 
the cold weather. Perhaps he thought he would 
like to run in the bright, warm sunshine. See, 
he did not go very far from that tree. He did 
not stay long. He turned right around and went 
back without stopping. He did not leave 
many tracks on the snow. I guess he thought 
his warm nest would be a good place to stay. 
It is not warm enough yet for him to like it 
out-of-doors.” 

“We are braver than the animal people,” 


28 



Leni-lenape Wigwams 














said Little Bear. “They do not like to stay out 
and play in the cold and the snow.” 

Star was a few moons older than Little Bear. 
He looked at his friend and said, “My friend, 
do you not know that a brave man would not 
speak of his courage to anyone? He would let 
others tell of it for him. It is good that you 
did not make that remark within the hearing 
of a warrior. He would have stopped us, and 
we would have had to stand and listen while 
he told us that it is not good to boast. 

“A braggart is not brave. My father told me 
that. Yesterday he asked me if I were brave 
enough to take off my warm bearskin and roll 
in the deep, soft snow. We must always do as 
the older people say. I did roll in the snow, 
and it was cold against my skin. I thought I 
was brave. Then I ran into our wigwam as fast 
as I could and sat by the fire. I was cold! My 
father followed me into the wigwam, and I 
asked him if he did not think that I had been 
brave to roll in the cold snow. Do you know 
what he said to me? He said, ‘My son, you 
should not let anyone hear you say that. It is 
well to wait until others tell you that you are 
brave. A brave man never tells of his own brave 


30 


deeds.’ I shall never forget that, nor shall I 
forget the shame I felt.” 

Little Bear, too, felt ashamed. He knew that 
he had been boasting, but he resolved never to 
do it again. He thanked his friend for the story. 

Star saw that Little Bear was feeling badly, 
and he wanted his friend to be happy. He 
pulled up his bow and fitted an arrow. 

“Come on,” he said. “Fit an arrow to your 
bow, and let’s see who can shoot the farther.” 

Each boy let an arrow fly from his bow. Then 
they ran to see which had traveled the farther. 
Neither arrow had gone a great distance. There 
were many trees, and the trees had stopped the 
flight. 

The boys were tired. It was hard work to 
walk through the deep snow. 

“I guess all the animal people are in their 
homes where they can hide from the cold win¬ 
ter spirits,” said Little Bear. “Let us go to our 
homes, too.” 

Star agreed, and the boys started homeward. 
They walked along without watching and listen¬ 
ing as they had been taught to do when they 
were in the wilderness. Suddenly they heard 
a twig snap behind them. They turned quickly. 


31 


Their first thought was that it had been caused 
by a bear or a panther. But that was a foolish 
idea because the bear people sleep during the 
long, cold moons. 

Star’s eyes were sharper than Little Bear’s. 
“Look,” he cried proudly. “There comes my 
father. He is bringing home a deer. My father 
is a good hunter!” 

The two boys ran to meet Star’s father, but 
he did not smile a greeting to them. Instead 
he said sternly: 

“My sons, I have been watching you for 
some time. You did not do as you have been 
taught. When you came out here to hunt, you 
did not climb a tree to use the eyes that the 
Great Spirit gave you. If you had climbed 
a tree, your eyes would have warned you that 
someone was near. Had I been an enemy, I 
could have captured and carried off both of 
you. You were not watching. I followed when 
you turned to go back. I stepped on the twig 
and let it break. I wanted to know if your ears 
were listening to tell you of danger. You must 
remember what we have taught you.” 

The two boys listened earnestly while Star’s 
father spoke. They were sorry that they had 


32 





■ 




Star’s Father with the Hornless Deer 








not remembered what they had been taught, and 
felt that they would never forget again. 

The old hunter went on, bent forward under 
the heavy weight of the deer. The two young 
hunters quietly walked behind him to the vil¬ 
lage. 

At the wigwam Star’s father laid the deer on 
the ground in front of the fire. The boys saw 
that the deer had no horns. The deer people 
lose their great crown of horns in the Frog 
Moon, and then hide from the wilderness peo¬ 
ple. Their horns are their defense; without 
them they cannot successfully fight their ene¬ 
mies. By the time the Autumn Moon comes, 
the deer has grown a new set of horns. Then 
he comes out of his hiding-place, once more 
able to protect himself. 

Before doing anything else, Star’s father 
threw some tobacco on the fire to thank the 
Great Spirit for the food. After that had burned, 
he threw some cornmeal into the fire as an 
offering to the spirit of the deer he had killed. 

When the prayer was over, the mother 
skinned the deer. She laid the skin aside until 
she could prepare it for use. Then she cut up 
the meat. One tender piece she held out to Star, 


34 


saying, “You must always be generous to your 
friends. Give this piece of meat to Little Bear. 
He can carry it home to his mother.” 

Star handed the meat to his friend, and Little 
Bear thanked him. Then he thanked Star’s 
mother and father. 

“Come with me, friend,” he said to Star. “We 
will take the meat to my mother’s wigwam to¬ 
gether.” 

The two boys ran off. Both were happy 
again. When Little Bear gave the meat to his 
mother, she thanked them both for their kind¬ 
ness and invited Star to stay and eat some of it. 

Star could not stay, but he did not forget to 
thank Little Bear’s mother for asking him. The 
shadows were getting very long. Father Sun 
was going into his wigwam to rest. At this time 
of the year Star liked to be at home near the 
bright fire when the sun disappeared in the 
west. 

“Do not forget,” said Star in parting from 
Little Bear, “that tomorrow we shall go into 
the wilderness again.” Moving closer, he whis¬ 
pered, “And tomorrow we shall not forget to 
climb a tree and let our eyes tell us whether 
we are alone!” 


35 




The village looked lonely as Star hurried to 
his home. In the coming darkness the wig- \ 
warns were but dim shapes. Most of the In¬ 
dians were already inside their homes getting j 
ready to eat their evening meal. 

When Star pulled back the flap and entered 
his mother’s wigwam, a good smell came to his 
nose. Fresh meat was roasting, and cornmeal 
was bubbling in its pot. Star’s father, mother, 
and sister were already seated around the fire, 
and Star hurried to his mat. The mother heaped 
bowls with the steaming cornmeal and the fresh 
meat, and they all enjoyed the good food. Then, 
after the father had offered thanks to the Giver 
of All Things, he told about all that he had 
seen and done while he was in the forest that 
day. 

Star was tired. As soon as the story was fin¬ 
ished, he said good night to his family. They 
wished him pleasant dreams and then, wrapped 




THE WARNING OF THE OWLS 

The soft, silvery light of a big round moon 
guarded the little Indian village which was 
wrapped in the quiet of a cold night. The whole 
village of the Unami, or Turtle Tribe of the 
Leni-lenape people, was asleep. Only the 
cracking of the trees disturbed the winter still¬ 
ness, until suddenly the deep hooting of a hun¬ 
gry owl floated out upon the silence. He was 
flying through the wilderness, hunting for a 
rabbit or a mouse who had braved the cold to 
search for food. After a time he alighted on 
the limb of a tree and called to his mate. This 
awakened the Indian people. 

Little Bear’s father got out of his warm bed 
and went to the fire. The Indians believed that 
the owl had no power over them for good or 
for evil. There was no need to make a prayer 
to him, but the Red People liked to show their 
gratitude for any kindness, and an owl at one 
time had sounded the alarm that had warned 
their war party of danger. The Indians never 
forgot that deed. The story of it was told to 


37 




every child. Little Bear’s father often told it j 
to him. 

Hearing his father get out of bed, Little Bear 
jumped up and went to the fire to join him. 
Together they put some tobacco on the red 
coals. Little Bear hoped the smoke of their 
offering would reach the owl. He would know, 
then, that the Red People had not forgotten 
that the owl family had been kind to them. 

Little Bear loved the story. He asked his 
father to tell it to him again. 

“Wrap your bearskin around you, my son, 
and sit close to the fire,” said the father. Then 
he put some wood on the embers and blew 
gently to start a blaze. When the fire was burn¬ 
ing, he sat down beside his boy. 

“Listen,” he said, “while I tell you the story 
as my grandfather told it to me many, many 
snows ago. It happened when our people were 
at war with the Mengwe Tribe. The Mengwe 
were a very powerful nation. 

“A band of our warriors had been sent ahead 
as scouts. After they had been gone for many 
days but had seen no enemy, they thought that 
the Mengwe must have left the country of our 
fathers and returned to their own homes. That 



night, when the sun went into his wigwam, our 
scouts made a camp. They had not rested for 
a long time, and they were tired and hungry. 
After eating cornmeal, cooked over a fire just 
large enough to boil the water, they fell into a 
deep sleep. 

“Suddenly an owl, the sentinel of the night, 
gave his call. Every warrior awakened and sat 
up. The owl people were excited. They had 
been disturbed. Not only one owl was calling, 
as usual, but many. They seemed to be saying, 
‘Up! Up! Danger! Danger!’ 

“The moon was shining brightly, and our 
scouts quickly hid behind the friendly trees and 
rocks. Then each man quietly looked about to 
find the reason for the great excitement among 
the owl people. They knew that the owls were 
warning them of danger. 

“It was not very long until they knew that 
the Mengwes had almost surrounded them. If 
it had not been for the warning of the owls, 
all in that scouting party would have been de¬ 
stroyed while they were asleep. 

“When our warriors returned to their homes, 
they told the story to our people. Since that 
time we have never forgotten to thank the owl 


39 






t 



An Owl, the Sentinel of the Night 















people for saving the lives of those brave war¬ 
riors.” 

The call of the owl was lost in the distance 
long before the father ended his story. Little 
Bear then spoke seriously, “When I have grown 
to manhood, I, too, will never forget to thank 
the owl people.” 

Then they both stood up. The father quietly 
tended the fire. Before Little Bear went back 
to his bed, the father again reminded him, “Nev¬ 
er forget a kindness that has been done to any 
of your people. The Great Spirit will know, 
and He will be good to you. Good night, my 
son, dream good dreams.” 

No father ever forgot to teach his boy grati¬ 
tude whenever he had a chance. That was every 
Indian boy’s first lesson, and it was always re¬ 
peated. 

The next morning heavy clouds hung low 
over the Indian village, and the angry Wind 
People were roughly pushing the branches of 
the trees about. The gray clouds hid the sun 
from the Red People, who were up and wait¬ 
ing to welcome him with his light and warm 
rays. 

Little Bear, his father, and his mother were 


41 




standing at the door of their wigwam. Star 
joined them, and Little Bear’s father made his 
prayer to the Manito of the Air. He threw some 
tobacco to each of the Four Winds and asked 
their blessing. He asked the Manito of the 
Storm to take pity on the man people and send 
the Wind People back to their wigwams. When 
this prayer was over, all four went into the wig¬ 
wam. 

There the father put four stones into the fire, 
one for each of the winds. When the stones 
were hot, he put some tobacco on each one. 
Little Bear’s mother brought a bowl of water 
and carefully sprinkled some of it on the to¬ 
bacco. The smoke arose and found its way 
through the smoke hole. The sacrifice of tobac¬ 
co and the prayer to the four manitos who gov¬ 
ern the winds were over. 

The two boys had stood very quietly. That 
was their way of helping to make the prayer. 
Afterwards they went out-of-doors. They were 
not afraid of the storm, and they hurried off to 
play in the snow. 

Soon many little girls and women came out 
to gather wood. It was their duty to have a 
plentiful supply in the homes before the storm 


42 


drove them into their wigwams. No one liked to 
hunt for wood during a snowstorm. 

From their babyhood little girls were taught 
that they must help their mothers. They gath¬ 
ered wood, helped to grind the corn, and helped 
to cook the food. If her mother was making 
pottery, baskets, mats, or clothing, the little girl 
would help with the work while her brother 
played games or did anything that might please 
him. He was not asked to help. 

Little Bear saw his mother among the women. 
She was working alone, for she had no daugh¬ 
ter. Star had a sister; so his mother did not have 
to do everything alone. Both boys now stopped 
their play and, as they often did, helped Little 
Bear’s mother gather wood. When they carried 
it to the wigwam, she gave each of them a piece 
of corn bread and a piece of maple sugar. That 
was to thank them for the help they had given 
her. 

As night came on, the wind grew stronger. 
It found its way into the wigwams, and every¬ 
one was glad that he had wood enough to keep 
him warm. It seemed as if a great storm had 
come upon the village. The Wind People were 
angry. They blustered and blew. They shook 


43 




the wigwams, but they could not blow them 
down. These Indians had learned how to make 
homes that the Wind People could not get hold 
of to destroy. 

The wigwams in which Little Bear and Star 
lived were cone-shaped. They were not very 
large; neither were they very high. The frame¬ 
work was made of saplings, some of which grew 
right where they were used. Others had to be cut 
and set firmly into the ground. The tops of the 
saplings were bent over at the right height, in¬ 
terwoven, and firmly fastened together. This 
framework was carefully covered with strips of 
birch bark, or sometimes skins were used. There 
was an opening in the side that served as a door, 
and a smoke hole in the middle of the roof. 
Single families lived in such wigwams. 

There were also wigwams in which several 
Indian families could live, each in its own part. 
These larger wigwams were called “long 
houses.” 

The Wind People were in a still angrier mood 
as they rushed through the great wilderness. 
There cruel North Wind uprooted some of the 
trees. The trees were young. Their grip on 
Mother Earth was too weak to fight against this 


44 










Gathering Wood 







mighty Manito of the North. He twisted, turned, 
and bent them until they were tired and dis¬ 
couraged. When they could not hold any longer, 
they lay down on Mother Earth to rest. 

The manitos must have heard the prayers of 
the people, for the storm did not stay long. 
When the boys awakened the next morning, not 
even a little breeze was blowing and the sun 
was getting up as usual. Star and Little Bear 
took their bows and arrows and went out to 
play near the forest. There they saw some of 
the trees that cruel North Wind had uprooted. 
Little Bear and Star each found a tree, and to¬ 
gether they dragged them to their wigwams. 
They would make good firewood. 

A pair of older men, walking through the 
village, saw the boys dragging in the trees. They 
passed close enough for the boys to hear them 
speak. 

“The fathers of those two boys should be very 
proud of them. They must be happy to have 
such thoughtful children,” said one of the men. 

“Yes. It is a pleasure to see boys who have 
listened and remembered what their elders have 
taught them,” the other replied. 

The boys were pleased at what they heard, 

46 


but they went right on and pretended they did 
not know whom the men were talking about. 

The cold days were passing fast. Little 
Bear, Star, and the other boys were so busy 
playing that they did not notice the time go by. 
They ran races and practised with their bows 
and arrows so that they would become good 
warriors and hunters. They wrestled to make 
themselves strong. And, of course, they were 
given advice and taught the ways of their peo¬ 
ple whenever an old man came their way. 

The boys also climbed trees to train their eyes. 
It was great fun to see which boy could discover 
an object so far off that the others had not 
noticed it. The Indians believed that if a boy 
learned to use his eyes well while he was young, 
when he grew to manhood he would be able to 
see the smallest object far off in the distance. He 
would not only know that the object was there, 
but he would be able to tell whether it was man 
or animal. Well-trained eyes had often warned 
a warrior of an enemy and enabled him to save 
his people. 

While the boys were training their eyes, each 
really hoped that he would see a deer near the 
village. When a boy brought in his first deer, the 


47 


father gave a feast in his honor. Everybody in 
the village was invited to it. After that the boy 
was a hunter and could go along when the men 
went off. on a hunt. 

Little Bear and Star went into the forest al¬ 
most every day. They liked to find the tracks 
that the animal people had left on the telltale 
blanket of snow. Snow does not keep the secrets 
of the wilderness. 

One day after there had been a light fall of 
snow, the two boys started off to find fresh tracks. 
But not even a mouse or a rabbit had ventured 
out of his snug, warm home. The wind was 
blowing. These days the Wind People often 
came out of their wigwam to play around the 
sleeping trees. 

The boys noticed that the clouds were heavy 
and that the wind was getting stronger. They 
wondered if the Wind People were warning 
them that a storm was on the way. The sun was 
hidden behind the clouds, and the boys thought 
that the clouds looked angry. They seemed to 
be piling up, like hills. 

“Those look like wind clouds, and the air 
seems to whisper, ‘Snow,’ ” said Star. 

The boys hurried back to the village, where 

48 


they could play and be near to their wigwams. 

As the day grew older, the wind became 
stronger. Little Bear, sitting comfortably before 
the fire in the wigwam that evening, told his 
father to listen to the war whoop of the North 
Wind. He was screaming threats at the man 
and the animal people as he rushed ahead and 
pushed his way through the trees. 

Little Bear’s mother sat at one side of the 
fire, preparing rabbit skins for blanket robes. 
She worked on these small skins with a rib-bone 
scraper until they were smooth and soft. Little 
Bear’s father was busy making a new scraper of 
stone to use on heavier skins. He was making 
it from a thick piece of grayish slate about four 
inches long and half as wide. He had already 
rounded one end so that it could be used as a 
handle. Now he was carefully grinding each 
side of the other end to make it rounded and 
sharp. This sharp end would be used for scrap¬ 
ing. 

As he sat there slowly shaping the tool, the 
father told his boy the story of how good and 
evil were distributed among the animal and the 
man people. 

“It was at the very beginning of the world,” 


49 


said the father, “when the man and the animal 
people joined to protect each other from the 
monsters that roamed over the land and ruled 
the water. One monster, in particular, was 
wiser than all the others. Nothing could stop 
him, neither mountain, nor water, nor marsh. 

“The people became discouraged. They made 
a prayer to Gitche Manito and asked Him to 
help them. The Great Spirit replied that it 
was not always strength that overcame diffi¬ 
culties, that the brain was a greater weapon. 

“The people then called a council and invited 
the chiefs of all the animal people to meet with 
the chiefs of all the man people. In the council 
the chief of the bear people said that all the 
animal people would help if the man people 
would agree to share the monster’s brain with 
them. The man people agreed. It was known 
to all that the monster’s brain was made up of 
every desire from wisdom and good to evil and 
deceit. 

“The people prayed to all the manitos for 
help, and the manitos promised to watch over 
them. The great bear was selected to go out 
and challenge the monster to battle. It was de¬ 
cided that the bear chief should go out and sur- 


50 




prise the monster; then rush through a certain 
pass in the mountains. The Manito of the Rain 
promised to sit on the mountaintop just above 
the pass and send help to the bear. 

“On the day of the battle everything went well. 
The great bear surprised the enemy and then 
started through the pass. The Manito of the Rain 
sent a great dark cloud. The chief of the bears 
looked, and felt, very small as he was running 
from the powerful monster. The bear became 
very much frightened, and began to think that 
the Rain Manito had forgotten him. Suddenly 
there was a great bolt of lightning. It struck 
the monster and killed him. His brains were 
scattered, in small pieces, all over the mountain¬ 
side. Then the man people and the animal peo¬ 
ple heard the voice of the thunder. 

“ ‘Now,’ it said, ‘gather all the brains you can. 
Be very careful which part you take. Each part 
that you eat will become a part of you.’ 

“Everybody ran to get his share. All were 
greedy, and forgot to pick out the part that would 
give to him who ate it the nature he wanted. 
Everybody grabbed all sorts of pieces. That is 
why the turtle lays his eggs on land and lives 
both on land and in water. And that is why the 


5 1 


lives of men and animals are a mixture of good 
and evil. If our forefathers had been careful to 
select only the pieces of brain that best suited 
them, everyone might have been wise and good. 
There would be no envy or jealousy. But per¬ 
haps the Great Spirit did not want all to be alike. 
It is better, my son, as it is. Each must decide 
for himself. That is why you must struggle and 
fight against evil. Then you will be a respected 
warrior when you grow to be a man.” 

Little Bear sat wide-eyed as he listened to his 
father’s story of the monster. He thought it was 
exciting, like the wind on the warpath out-of- 
doors. He was glad that there were no more 
monsters, that they lived only in the storyland 
of the Long Ago. 

Little Bear went to the door of the wigwam 
with his father. The wind was saying good night. 
It was not so strong as it had been. Perhaps it 
was tired and was on its way back to its wigwam. 
Snow was falling fast. Little Bear wrapped his 
robe around him more tightly and went to his 
bed. 

The next morning the boy awakened unusual¬ 
ly early. Everything seemed hushed. He ran to 
the door. The whole world, as far as he could 


52 


see, was covered with a heavy blanket of newly 
fallen snow. The branches of the trees were bent 
with the weight of the heavy burden that the 
Cloud People had laid upon their outstretched 
arms. The branches were waiting for the morn¬ 
ing sun to help them loosen the hold of the cold 
snow. They needed the Sun Manito to help them 
shake the snow down to join its brothers and 
sisters who had buried Mother Earth during the 
long cold night. 



THE SEARCH FOR A NEW HOME 

The young boys again sat around the fire in 
the Storyteller’s wigwam, waiting for him to 
tell them more of the story of their people. 
Stacked against one side of the wigwam was a 
plentiful supply of firewood. As the boys had 
come from their homes, each had gathered wood 
until his arms were full. All the children liked 
the old warrior and were eager to help him and 
his old wife. 

Beside the Storyteller on the floor was a bundle 
of record sticks. The Leni-lenape Indians kept 
records of the important events in their history 
by cutting notches or marks into sticks and pieces 
of bark. Sometimes the marks and symbols were 
burned or painted on the wood. These sticks 
were very important to the tribe, and the chief 
was responsible for their good care and safety. 

Certain men in each band were trained so 
that they understood the meaning of each notch 
and form. The Storyteller was one of these men. 
Today he had borrowed a bundle of record sticks 
from the chief so that he could read them to the 


54 


young boys who were gathered all around him. 

After thanking his listeners for bringing 
wood, the old man, as always, made a prayer to 
the Sun Manito and to the manitos of the Four 
Winds. Then he began to speak. 

“Listen,” he said. “I am going to tell you of 
the Long Ago. You must know and remember 
all that happened to our people on their long 
wanderings in search of a home.” 

He took a stick from the bundle and looked 
at it carefully. “These records,” he explained, 
“tell me the story that you are going to hear. 
Our forefathers made them so that we would 
never forget what they did many, many snows 
ago.” 

The old man laid the stick on the ground in 
front of him and then, looking at his eager lis- 
teners, began: 

“So long ago that our people would not know 
about it, had our forefathers not left these record 
sticks for us to read, our people lived in the far 
north. It was a cold country with much ice and 
snow. The planting time was short. Our fore¬ 
fathers could not raise much food, and there were 
many starving snows. They did not like the 
country they called home; so they met in a coun- 


55 


cil and decided to pack up and go in search of 
another land where they would have more food. 
They made up their minds that they would not 
stop traveling until they found the place where 
they would be happy to make a new home. 

“These people started and moved tovyard the 
south. After traveling for a long time, they came 
to water so deep and so broad that they could not 
cross. But that did not stop them. They had not 
yet found what they were hunting for. They 
turned and went on land in the direction of the 
setting sun. 

“A planting moon came soon afterwards, and 
the travelers stopped and made camp. They did 
not like to waste a planting time. They raised 
crops, hunted, and prepared food so that they 
would not starve when they continued on their 
journey. 

“Our people remained in this western land 
for a long time. We do not know how long. 
Our record sticks tell us only that they raised 
many crops there. When the children of these 
Indians—or it may have been these children’s 
children, we cannot tell—grew to manhood, they 
decided to pack up and go on with the search 
for a better home. I cannot tell you what made 
56 


them decide to leave that place. The record 
sticks do not tell me.” 

The old man took another stick out of his 
bundle and laid it before him beside the other 
one. Then he went on with his story. 

“This record stick tells me that the people had 
harvested plenty of food to last them for a long 
time. They packed the food and the dried meat, 
and when all was ready, the whole tribe started 
to travel again. 

“This time they went toward the land of the 
rising sun. These sticks say that the people jour¬ 
neyed a long, long time. Those who were chil¬ 
dren when they started grew to manhood and to 
womanhood. Their children also grew up, and 
perhaps it was even longer than that. They made 
many many camps along the way. 

“While stopping in these different camps, the 
women raised and harvested many crops. The 
men hunted and brought in plenty of game. The 
women dried the meat and put it into bags. Each 
time, just as soon as their food supply was great 
enough to last for several moons, the tribe again 
took up its search for a new home. 

“After a very, very long time our forefathers 
came to a great river. It was full of fish. The 


57 


river was known as the Namaesi Sipu. We call 
it the Mississippi. There the travelers made an¬ 
other camp. At this river camp they met the 
Mengwe, or Iroquois, people. The Mengwe 
tribe was also hunting for a new home. 

“Our people sent scouts ahead to find out who 
lived on the other side of the great water. Our 
forefathers liked the country they had found and 
thought that this was where they would like to 
stop and make their new home. 

“When the scouts returned, they told our peo¬ 
ple that a mighty tribe made its home on the 
other side of the big water and that they had built 
many towns there. The people were tall and 
strong, and the scouts had seen many powerful 
warriors among them. The scouts also reported 
that the people across the river called themselves 
the Alligewi, or Cherokee, and that they were a 
very warlike nation. 

“These record sticks say,” the Storyteller went 
on, “that those of our people who had arrived on 
the shore of the Namaesi Sipu first waited until 
the rest of the band joined them. When all were 
gathered together, the scouts repeated what they 
had learned of the people who lived on the other 
side of the river. Then our forefathers called a 
58 




council and decided to send messengers to the 
powerful Alligewi to ask their permission to 
settle across from them. 

“The messengers went and made the request. 
To it the Alligewi replied that all this was their 
country and that they would not share it with 
strangers. The messengers returned and gave 
that answer to our people. 

“Our forefathers were tired, but they decided 
to go on with their search for a new home. They 
sent the messengers back to the village of the 
Alligewi to ask if they would permit the tribe 
to pass through their country at peace. This re¬ 
quest was granted, and our people started to 
cross the great Namaesi Sipu. 

“Our tribe numbered a great many people. 
When the Alligewi saw this, they ordered our 
forefathers to stop crossing the river. Our peo¬ 
ple had asked for permission. The permission 
had been granted. Now the Alligewi broke their 
word. This caused a war between our tribe and 
the Alligewi Indians. Our people would not 
retreat. They did not want war; they would 
rather have had peace. But now that war had 
been forced upon them, they were determined 
to show the enemy that they were not cowards. 


59 


They would not be driven away from the shore. 

“The Mengwe people, as I told you before, 
were camped above us on the great water. Their 
scouts told them of our trouble, and the Mengwe 
sent messengers down to our camp. They offered 
to join us against the Alligewi if we would agree 
to divide the country with them in case of vic¬ 
tory. Our people accepted the offer. 

“From then on the two tribes fought together, 
but our people were always the leaders. Our 
forefathers were strong. They were brave war¬ 
riors. Our people fought well. It was not long 
before the Alligewi could see that they were 
about to be conquered by a stronger people. The 
enemy left their towns and, with their women 
and children, retreated down the great water. 
Our people did not follow them. To the south 
the Alligewi found a new country full of game, 
and there they made new homes. They were 
soon happy again, and they have lived there ever 
since. 

“After the Alligewi had gone, the Mengwe 
and our people called a council. They met to¬ 
gether to decide where each should make his 
home. The Mengwe were satisfied with the 
country to the north where they had already 
6o 


stopped. So there was no trouble in dividing the 
land that was taken from the Alligewi. The two 
tribes lived at peace for a great many snows.” 

The old man stopped for a moment and looked 
at the group of boys. He saw that they were very 
much interested; so he took a new record stick 
and continued: 

“This stick does not tell how many snows our 
people lived in the land of the Alligewi before 
they again became restless. Many decided to 
stay there always; they had learned to love their 
new homes. But our own forefathers packed 
their belongings and started once more toward 
the land of the rising sun. 

“After many days of travel they came into 
sight of high mountains. They could not think 
what might lay beyond them—perhaps the home 
of the rising sun! The food that they carried 
with them was fast being used; so they made a 
camp in the foothills. There the people found 
plenty of water and game. Still our forefathers 
did not feel that this was the land for their new 
home. 

“A few days later some of the hunters climbed 
the great mountain nearby to see what was on 
the other side. They saw a wonderful stream 
61 


of good water flowing toward the east. We know 
this was the Susquehanna River. The hunters 
followed it for many, many sleeps. Finally they 
came to another great water, the Chesapeake 
Bay. Still they did not go back and report to 
their people. Instead they scouted along the 
shore of the bay until at last it led them to an 
even larger body of water that tasted of salt. 
That was the ocean. 

“Several of the hunters cut down a big tree 
and made a boat for themselves. They followed 
along the shore in this while the other hunters 
walked on land near the ocean’s edge. After a 
long time they came to another river that emptied 
into the great salt water. This was the Delaware 
River. 

“The hunters called the wonderful country 
through which they were traveling Schey-ich-bi, 
which means Long Land Water. 

“They continued to explore the country until 
at last they were stopped by another big water, 
which we now know as the Hudson River. Then 
they decided that they had gone far enough. 
They had been away a long time and were very 
much pleased with the new land they had found. 
And they knew that their people would be happy 
62 


to hear of this country with so much water and 
such great forests—a country full of fish, game, 
fruits, and tortoises; a country with rivers that 
were the homes of water birds. 

“The hunters returned to the homes they had 
left in the foothills of the mountain. They told 
the people that they had discovered a great land 
of plenty. They said that though they had trav¬ 
eled in many directions, they had met no enemies 
on their long journey. They felt sure that Gitche 
Manito had led them and that He meant the won¬ 
derful country to be their home. 

“Our forefathers thought that the hunters were 
right. So once more the women packed the food 
and supplies, and our people started on the long 
journey that brought them to the land where we 
live today. 

“Our people are divided into three tribes, and 
each tribe is divided into twelve families, one in 
honor of each of the twelve manitos who help 
the Great Spirit. 

“The Mensi tribe settled in the mountain 
country. The wolf is their totem. We call them 
Round Feet because of the shape of the wolf’s 
paw. Wherever you see a round paw cut or 
painted on a rock, a piece of bark, or a wigwam, 
63 


it means the Mensi tribe lives or has passed 
there. 

“The Unami people selected a home farther 
down the river. Their totem is the tortoise. The 
great tortoise was the first living thing. He bears 
the earth on his back. Because our own people, 
yours and mine, claim the tortoise as our an¬ 
cestor, our sachem, or chief, is the head-chief of 
all the Leni-lenape people. It is the only totem 
of our people where the whole animal is shown 
to represent the tribe. 

“The third tribe is the Unalachtigo. These 
people live near the great salt water. Their 
totem is the turkey, and their sign is that bird’s 
foot. There was a fourth tribe, but it is no more. 
That tribe is lost. 

“The Wolf Tribe selected the mountain coun¬ 
try for their home because they are the most 
warlike. They live behind the other two tribes. 
From their home they can watch the Mengwe 
people. They can send messengers to warn their 
brothers, and can be ready to help, if those peo¬ 
ple should attempt to attack us.” 

The Storyteller had read the last record stick. 
Now he picked them all up and carefully tied 
them into a bundle again. He did this so that 
64 



none would ever become separated or lost. 

“Today,” he ended, “I have read you the rec¬ 
ords on these sticks. You have heard more of 
the story of your people. Do not forget the 
things that you have heard. Some day you will 
see the records on bark that our people made of 
their travels. It is the Great Walam Olum.” 

After offering a prayer to the Great Spirit, he 
dismissed the boys by saying, “It is getting late. 
Run home to your wigwams and to your even¬ 
ing meals.” 

The boys listened until the old man had fin¬ 
ished speaking. Then they thanked him for the 
story and went out of his wigwam. They felt 
that they had learned much about the history 
of their people. As they ran to their homes, they 
called good night to one another. The smell of 
good stew was in the air, and it made them hun¬ 
gry. When they entered their homes, their fam¬ 
ilies were ready to eat the evening meal. Soon 
afterwards the village was asleep, and the boys, 
no doubt, dreamed of their forefathers. 







THE BONE GAME 

The cold moons seemed very long to the little 
girls, but the boys did not mind them. They liked 
to hunt, find animal tracks, or play war party 
in the snow. Of course they had to study, but 
their lessons were play. In them they learned the 
things they needed to know to become warriors 
and hunters. 

Unlike the boys, the girls had little time for 
play. They had work to do. Most of the time 
they were busy within the wigwam, but it was 
also a part of their work to gather wood. It was 
hard to find wood when the snow was deep. 
The girls also had lessons. They made mats and 
jars, and learned to weave. They made things 
for their fathers and brothers as well as for them¬ 
selves. Girls had to learn all the things that they 
would do when they grew to be women. 

Like the boys, the girls were eager to hear their 
parents and others among the grown-ups say 
that they were kind and thoughtful. When an 
Indian girl had finished her work at home, she 
often went to a wigwam where old people lived 
66 



and helped the old Indian women with whatever 
they had to do. The old people never forgot 
to tell the girl’s mother of such kindness. And 
the mother always smiled at her daughter and 
thanked her for remembering the lesson she had 
been taught. Of course, that made the little girl 
feel happy and proud, and she would look about 
for more things to do. 

Little girls liked to be praised, but they did 
not have as many opportunities to earn it as their 
brothers had. A boy was praised just for help¬ 
ing in his own wigwam, but it was a girl’s duty 
to help with everything her mother did. It had 
always been that way among the Red People. 
There was never any question about the work 
and play of Indian children. 

The men of the village knew that the ice on 
the river would soon break up, and during these 
last cold moons they prepared for fishing time. 
They twisted strands of wild hemp or milkweed 
into strong, new fishlines. Those who preferred 
it made their lines from the inner bark of certain 
trees. Fishhooks they made from bone or stone 
or, sometimes, bird claws. They also put new 
bone points on their fish spears. 

The women knew that even before they went 
67 



to the fishing camp, they would go to the forest 
and make maple sugar. It was a part of their 
work to have ready all the things that would be 
needed in both camps—plenty of food, big pots 
in which to boil the sap, and racks on which to 
dry the flesh of fish and game. All this, in addi¬ 
tion to the daily duties of cooking, housework, 
and making clothing, bags, and pack straps, kept 
the women and girls busy. 

Boys, even when they were quite young, were 
often called to the village council fire. There 
they heard the wise men talk over village affairs 
and were taught the duties of warriors. They 
liked even better the time during the meeting 
when they were told of the brave deeds of their 
people. 

Sometimes at the meeting a councilman 
brought out many belts and strings made of wam¬ 
pum, or beads. Each had its own use. There 
were long belts and short belts. Some were wide, 
and others were narrow. Some of the wampum 
was black, some was white, and on some of the 
belts there were marks of red paint. The belts 
were always left in the sachem’s care. 

Holding up a belt made of all white beads, the 
chief told the boys, “This white wampum means 


68 



good will and friendship toward all people.” 

Then he exchanged the white belt for a dark 
one and went on, “Black wampum is the sign 
of discontent. When war is to be declared, we 
use red paint on dark wampum. A dark wam¬ 
pum belt with a red tomahawk on it means war. 
Red is never put into any belt if it is to be used 
for any purpose other than to indicate war. 

“A war belt wrapped around a roll of tobacco, 
when sent to a friendly nation, indicates that 
we are inviting our friends to join us in a raid 
upon an enemy. The tribe to which the belt is 
sent will call a council at once. The war cap¬ 
tain will not give his answer to our messenger 
until the council has carefully considered the 
question and every councilman has been called 
upon to talk. 

“If the war captain accepts the invitation, he 
returns the belt but keeps the tobacco. His war¬ 
riors then smoke the tobacco and say, ‘This to¬ 
bacco smokes well.’ But if the invitation is not 
accepted, both the belt and the tobacco are re¬ 
fused. 

“A belt that is made of two rows of white 
wampum with a string of dark woven through 
the center from one end to the other means good 
69 




will. When we send or receive such a belt, it 
shows that the two peoples are on friendly 
terms.” 

The boys listened eagerly to every word the 
chief said. Each hoped that some day he would 
be called upon to act as a messenger and carry 
a belt to one of the other tribes. 

On another day the old chief of the village 
called the boys into the council house and told 
them about the great Algonquin Nation to which 
they belonged. What they heard made them very 
proud. They learned that the forefathers of their 
own family, the Leni-lenape, were the grandpar¬ 
ents of all the Algonquin people. 

“Each tribe of our family,” the chief ex¬ 
plained, “has its own chief. Our sachem, the 
head-chief of the Unami, or Turtle Tribe, is also 
the head-chief or sachem of all three tribes 
of the Leni-lenape family. But his son cannot 
succeed him to that position because an Indian 
child belongs to his mother and the mother is 
never of the father’s clan. 

“The one who is to become the new head-chief 
is selected during the lifetime of the ruling 
sachem. That is because he must be carefully 
trained in his duties before it is time for him to 


70 



The Boys in a Village Council 




take office. The new head-chief is chosen in 
council by the chiefs of all the bands of the Leni- 
lenape family. Sometimes they choose a woman. 
We have always found our women sachems to 
be wise. 

“When the shadow of our sachem starts on its 
way to the Happy Southland, the two remaining 
chiefs meet with a council and with the people. 
These sub-chiefs prepare talks, which are re¬ 
corded in two wampum belts. When all is ready, 
the people, led by the two sub-chiefs, march in a 
procession into the village that is the home of the 
new sachem. Singing the speeches which they 
have prepared, the two sub-chiefs enter the vil¬ 
lage in advance of their followers. They go di¬ 
rectly to the council house, where twelve fires 
burn in honor of the twelve manitos. The sub¬ 
chiefs take their places with the new sachem on 
the side of the council house that is toward the 
rising sun. Not until then do the people enter. 

“When all are seated, one of the sub-chiefs 
stands and sings his talk. First he names the new 
sachem and announces that the home of the new 
head-chief will be the council house. Then he 
reminds the people of their duties and those of 
their chiefs. In a clear voice he sings that the 


72 




i people must obey their new sachem and help 
: him in his duties. He tells them that the duty 
; of the head-chief and his two sub-chiefs is to take 
care of, and watch over, everything that con¬ 
cerns the Leni-lenape people. Those three chiefs 
must cherish the friendship of the other Indian 
nations. It is the duty of the head-chief especially 
to preserve peace. He is not permitted to make 
| war, nor may he receive a war belt without the 
approval of the war captain. On the other hand, 
the war captain cannot make peace. He must 
refer all speeches for peace to the sachem. All 
this the sub-chief chants so that everyone may 
understand. These talks are recorded by two 
wampum belts. 

“Then, handing the speech bag which con¬ 
tains the important wampum belts and strings, 
to the new sachem, the speaker tells him that it 
is his most sacred duty to guard this bag and its 
contents. 

“The warriors always provide meat for the 
head-chief, and the Indian women help his wife 
with her work at planting time. A sachem must 
always have plenty, for he must be ready to offer 
food to anyone who enters his wigwam.” 

Suddenly the old chief stopped talking. The 


73 





boys were young. He knew that if he told them 
too much at one time, it would be hard for them 
to remember all that he said. The chief wisely 
concluded: 

“I have told you many important things today. 
I shall tell them to you many more times. If you 
listen well, and remember, you will know the 
ways of our people before you have grown to 
manhood. There is much to learn. 

“Now you may go. The sun does not go to 
rest as early as it did in the colder moons. You 
still have time for play before you must go to 
your wigwams.” After a moment the chief added 
simply, “I have spoken.” The boys knew that 
this meant that a speaker had finished what he 
wanted to say. 

Outside the meeting place the boys held a little 
council of their own and decided to play war 
party. They quickly chose sides, and each side 
chose a war captain. Almost at once the boy 
captains gave their orders, and their “men” 
started for hiding-places behind rocks and trees. 
Soon snowballs, instead of arrows, flew when¬ 
ever an enemy was sighted. If a ball hit its mark, 
the victor gave a war cry. Not until they grew 
to manhood would these boys learn the real war 


74 








The Game oj War Party with Snowballs 
























whoop, but the yells they gave were as fierce as 
they could make them. 

Each boy tried to show how brave he was. 
Sometimes one would jump from behind a tree 
or rock and run across an open space so that the 
enemy could see him. The enemy was always 
watching. It was seldom that the boy got back 
to his shelter in time to escape the snowballs sent 
in his direction. 

After a time one of the boys noticed that the 
shadows had grown long. He jumped out from 
behind his tree and made the sign of peace. Then 
all the boys came out from their hiding-places, 
and they pretended to have a council. They did 
stop long enough to plan another war party for 
the next day. After deciding to start the game 
earlier so that they would have more time to play, 
the boys raced for the village. 

Little Bear stopped at Star’s wigwam to sit 
near the fire and get warm. He was surprised 
to see his own father and some of the other war¬ 
riors sitting on mats in the center of the room. 
They were playing the bone game. Star’s mother 
motioned to the boys to come and sit near her so 
that they would not bother the men. The boys 
did as she said. They liked to watch this game. 

76 


Star’s father had a wooden bowl in his hands. 
In the bowl were twelve flat bones. One side of 
each bone was white, but the other side had 
been painted a bright color. Star’s father shook 
the bones around and around in the bowl. After 
he had shaken them until he was satisfied, he 
tossed them into the air. Then he caught them 
in the bowl as they came down. All the men 
watched, keenly interested, while he carefully 
counted the bones that had landed with the white 
side up. Each white side counted one point. 

The boys were so eager to see and count for 
themselves that they almost sprang from their 
mats. Star’s mother must have expected them 
to do that, for she had a hand on each boy. As 
the boys started to move, she tightened her hold. 
They understood and sat still. Both boys were 
glad she had reminded them not to disturb the 
players. That would have been impolite, and 
perhaps they would have had to listen to a lesson 
from their elders. 

The men played on and on. They loved the 
game and forgot how long they were playing. 
At last Star’s mother reminded them that the 
sun would soon be saying good night. She said 
that it was time for her to get the evening meal, 


77 







and she invited them to stay and eat. Of course, 
they would not stay. They stopped playing, and 
Star’s father put his bowl and the bones away. 

Little Bear and his father walked home to¬ 
gether. The sun had reached his western home, 
but it was not yet dark. 

After the mother had greeted them, she said, 
“My son, I am surprised that the chief kept you 
at his wigwam as late as this.” 

“Our son has not been at the council house all 
this time,” the father replied. “Some of us war¬ 
riors have been throwing bones with Star’s fa¬ 
ther, and the boys have been watching us.” 

As soon as the mother knew that the men had 
been playing the bone game, she laughed. Then 
she said, “Now I am surprised that you came 
home as early as you did.” She knew that the 
men found it difficult to stop once they started 
to play that game. 

The little family sat down to eat, and the fa¬ 
ther said, “My son, this is the Frog Moon. Soon 
you and I will have to go to the wilderness. We 
must find a good sycamore tree and make a new 
boat. It must be ready when the Sugar Moon 
comes.” 

“Will there be time then, Father, during the 

78 


Sugar Moon, to teach me to hunt?” asked Little 
Bear. 

“Perhaps,” the father replied. “It will make 
me happy when you are old enough to help me 
with the hunting.” 

And the father’s promise made Little Bear 
happy. 

After the evening meal the boy and his father 
went out of the wigwam and looked up at the 
calm night sky. Here and there a star sparkled 
brightly. 

“See,” said the father. “The moon is round. 
It gives us light when the sun is asleep. Soon 
it will be only half a moon and then, when the 
new moon comes, we must be ready to start for 
the sugar camp.” 

The father pointed to the North Star. “That 
great star in the north,” he said, “shines at night 
to help the hunters. The hunter marks the course 
he is going to take by that star. He is our best 
friend among the star people. He never moves 
his wigwam. His home is always in the same 
place, and he is always ready to guide us. 

“Do you see that bright trail across the sky? 
That is the path over which our people pass on 
their way to the Happy Southland, where they 


79 


meet their friends. It is the trail to the happy 
land of our forefathers of the Long Ago.” 

Little Bear bade the friendly North Star good 
night, and he and his father went back into the 
wigwam. 

“Rest well tonight, my son,” the father said. 
“You have been called to go to the wigwam of the 
Storyteller again tomorrow. You must be well 
rested so that you can listen carefully and re¬ 
member all that he tells you. The young men 
have been called to go to the wilderness council 
tomorrow. When you are grown and have 
learned the history of our people from the Story¬ 
teller, you, too, will be called to the wilderness 
council.” 



A WILDERNESS COUNCIL 

Early the next morning the little boys watched 
the warriors and young men leave for the wilder¬ 
ness council. Each little boy wished that he, too, 
was old enough to go to this important meeting. 

Once or twice each year there was held a great 
council of the Leni-lenape warriors. It met in 
the wilderness, where the men could talk and 
not be disturbed. Every young man who was old 
enough to join the warriors was called to these 
assemblies. Besides making decisions concern¬ 
ing the whole Leni-lenape family, the council 
gave instructions to the young men regarding 
many things that they might soon be called upon 
to do for their people. 

At the wilderness council the men, young and 
old, sat about a great council fire. After prayers 
the head-chief placed a large flat piece of bark 
on the ground in front of him. When all was 
quiet, he opened the speech bag. 

The Leni-lenape Indians had no books. But 
they did have records of their myths and of the 
important events in their history. Such records 
. 81 


were made in different ways. Many were pre¬ 
served on record sticks. The sacred traditions 
of the tribe were kept on pieces of prepared bark, 
known as the Walam Olum. This name means 
“red score,” and was used because the pictures 
that told the stories were painted in red on the 
bark. Important decisions of the council, con¬ 
cerning the Leni-lenape family, were often wov¬ 
en into strings or belts made of wampum. These 
strings and belts were kept by the head-chief in 
a speech bag. In this bag were also kept the 
strings and belts that had been sent to, or received 
from, other tribes. A story was connected with 
each of these, and in each tribe were wise men 
who had been trained to tell the stories to the 
young men. 

After opening the speech bag, the head-chief 
laid all the strings and belts that were in it on the 
piece of bark before him. Then the wise man 
who had been selected to act as orator stood and 
held up a belt. In a very grave manner he told the 
story regarding it. When he had finished, he 
handed the belt back to the chief, who very care¬ 
fully, and with much ceremony, returned it to 
the speech bag. Thus, the orator went on until 
he had told the story of each belt and string, 
82 



A Story for Each Wampum Belt 






always being sure to mention any brave deed 
connected with it. 

The young men were eager to learn. They 
knew how important it was that they listen at¬ 
tentively and try to remember every word. It was 
a great honor to be an orator, and each hoped 
that some day he might prove himself worthy of 
this position. 

Important messages from one tribe to another 
were usually carried by young men. It was 
necessary that they be taught how to act when 
they were messengers. Such instruction was next 
given in the wilderness council. 

The listeners were told that important mes¬ 
sages were carried by two of the most promising 
young men of the tribe. One of them delivered 
the message to the chief to whom it was sent; 
the other paid close attention to all that the chief 
said or did so that he would be able to tell his 
own people just what happened. 

Sometimes the messengers were told to “draw 
it underground.” This meant that the message 
was intended only for the person who was 
named. Those in charge of such a message were 
ordered to let no one know of their mission ex¬ 
cept the one to whom it was sent. 

84 


The warriors who were selected to carry espe¬ 
cially important messages were told to “enter 
the earth.” It was explained to the young men in 
the wilderness council that such messages were 
so important that not even the messengers them¬ 
selves should be seen by others. In order to avoid 
this, the young men were instructed to use other 
than the regular trails and to climb trees often 
so that they could watch their path a long way 
ahead. If they should see anyone coming, they 
must hide. 

The young men were told that even such secret 
messengers would often be seen in the village to 
which they were sent. But in that event the mes¬ 
sengers would receive the same treatment that 
was practised in their own village. The people 
who saw them would pass by and not let the 
strangers know that they had been noticed. 
Among the Indians, messengers were always re¬ 
spected. 

Those who carried the very important secret 
messages were required to hide in the village 
of the chief to whom they were sent until the sun 
had gone to rest. At that time, under the cover 
of darkness they could quietly enter the wigwam 
of the chief. There they would carefully remove 

85 


the white clay that always covered the belt or 
pipe or string that was being sent. Then it was 
time for the one messenger to step forward, offer 
the gift, and make his speech. 

Of course, the persons who saw the mes¬ 
sengers told the chief, but the chief appeared 
to give no attention to the tale. A chief called 
such reports “songs of a bird that has flown 
by.” Nevertheless, if the news sounded im¬ 
portant, he was watchful, and a chief was 
usually ready to receive even a secret mes¬ 
senger. 

In the wilderness council the young men were 
reminded often that they must share with those 
who were in need. They were told that the Great 
Spirit had sent the animals and had made the 
crops grow so that there would be plenty for the 
whole tribe. If there were not enough for every¬ 
one to have all he needed, then each must share 
alike. 

That only the beasts in the forests fight with 
their relatives was another thing told to the 
young warriors. These Indians said that when 
relatives fight, it is just like two knives trying to 
destroy each other’s sharp edge. The edges come 
together, but they destroy only that which comes 
86 


between them. “That which comes between the 
two knives,” explained the orator, “is the brother¬ 
hood and the loyalty of the relatives.” 

Although they had heard it many times as 
boys, the young men were again taught that they 
should not be cowards. They were told that a 
young man who had proved himself to be with¬ 
out courage would find no welcome in his tribe. 
He would be ridiculed by all his people. Even 
the women and the girls would make fun of him. 

The Leni-lenape Indians had no written laws. 
Serious difficulties were settled in council. The 
chief was always present, and every councilman 
had a chance to express his opinion. Everyone 
respected the council, and its decision was ac¬ 
cepted as final. However, there were many 
matters that were not taken to the council. These 
generally concerned difficulties between indi¬ 
viduals. Among other things that the wilder¬ 
ness council tried to help the young men under¬ 
stand were the customs of their people in settling 
such difficulties. 

When someone was injured or killed by an¬ 
other, the young men learned, it was the custom 
to give the injured man or woman the right to 
fix the punishment of the one who caused the 
87 


injury. Such troubles were not taken to the coun¬ 
cil unless the wrong concerned the whole band. 

If the wrongdoing was of major importance, 
the offender was taken before the council. That 
body tried to learn the whole story, and the 
offender was asked to tell his side. After both 
sides had been heard, the councilmen made their 
decision. 

Sometimes the relatives of the one who had 
been injured or killed were allowed to set the 
punishment. Often, especially when a person 
had been killed, the family required some sort 
of payment. This might be many strings of wam¬ 
pum. If the person killed were a woman, her 
family could demand twice as many strings as 
they could claim for the death of a man. If the 
one who committed the wrong would not pay 
what the relatives asked, the council met again. 
This time it fixed the penalty. 

These Indians would not tolerate one who in¬ 
tentionally injured another of his own people. 
Such a person was despised by everyone. The 
council would meet and publicly disgrace the 
guilty person by ordering him out of the village. 
He became an outcast. All could see what hap¬ 
pened to the person who disobeyed tribal laws. 


All these things the young warriors learned in 
the wilderness councils. They listened willingly, 
for there were positions in each Leni-lenape 
tribe that were greatly desired by the young men. 
There was a group of councilmen, who met with 
the chiefs and helped to govern the people. A 
few were selected to learn the story of the wam¬ 
pum belts and strings; they became the orators 
of the tribe. Others learned to read the record 
sticks; they became storytellers. Some were 
picked to be messengers. There were many 
young men and only a few desirable positions. 
Each knew that if he expected to be chosen, he 
must remember what he had heard, and help the 
tribe in every way that he could. 

As the time approached for the men to return 
from the council, the little boys in the village 
kept a constant watch. As soon as they saw the 
group in the distance, they ran to meet their 
fathers so that they could walk back with them. 

One night, after the men had returned from 
the wilderness and the evening meal was over, 
Little Bear’s father said, “My son, I shall tell 
you the story of the wampum. 

“When our people made their homes here, 
they found many beautiful shells. At first they 


used them chiefly as ornaments. They would 
drill a hole in the center of a shell and then run 
through it a string to be worn around the neck. 

“Later, when our ancestors went to the great 
salt water to get oysters and clams, they found 
many more shells there. These they eagerly 
hunted and saved. 

“After a time the people learned to make beads 
out of the shells. They became able to make 
them so smooth that no roughness could be felt 
when they rubbed the beads over their noses. 
Such beads are regarded as perfect. 

“At first each made his own beads, but la¬ 
ter it became possible to exchange them for 
other things that might be desired. It was easier 
to find white shells than either purple or black. 
So the white shells came to be less valuable than 
the colored ones. 

“To make a bead, a piece is broken from a 
periwinkle, a hard-shelled clam an oyster, or a 
conch shell, and is held in a split stick that serves 
as a vise. Then the grinding is done with a piece 
of stone. Our people have become so skillful at 
this that they can grind a bead until it is no 
thicker than a heavy straw and not much longer 
than a kernel of corn. After holes have been 


90 


drilled, the beads are strung on a sinew taken 
from the back of an animal. 

“It takes a long time to make a wampum bead. 
This is why the whole tribe works when we are 
making a belt.” 

Little Bear was glad to know the story of 
wampum. He thought that it must have taken 
a very long time to make all the belts and strings 
that their sachem had in the speech bag. He went 
to bed thinking of what his father had told him, 
and wondered whether Star knew the story. If 
not, he would tell it to him in the morning. In 
another moon they would go to the fishing camp, 
and then he and Star could gather some shells 
for themselves. Perhaps they could learn to make 
wampum. 



WARRIORS BECOME PEACEMAKERS 


The village was very quiet while the young 
men and the warriors were away at the wilder¬ 
ness council, for at the same time the little boys 
were gathered about the fire in the Storyteller’s 
wigwam. The old man knew that it would soon 
be time for the children to go with the hunters 
and learn the ways of the woods people. Then 
story-telling time would be over. Before they 
went, he wanted to tell them more of the story 
of their people. 

“The last time you were here,” the Storyteller 
began when the boys were sitting quietly, “I told 
you how our people came here to make this beau¬ 
tiful country their home. Today I shall tell you 
how the Mengwe deceived our forefathers and 
caused them to be peacemakers. But before we 
begin the story, we must make our prayer to the 
Manito of the Sun and the manitos of the four 
winds.” 

At the request of the Storyteller the boys stood 
and faced the home of Gitche Manito. “Gitche 
Manito,” the old man said, “has his wigwam on 


92 


the other side of the rising sun.” Having spoken, 
the Storyteller gravely put some tobacco on 
the fire. The boys watched the smoke start up¬ 
ward and float out of the hole in the roof. They 
knew that the smoke was on its way, carrying 
their prayers to the manitos. 

“Now,” said the old man, “sit close to the fire. 
Listen carefully and try to remember what I shall 
tell you.” 

He untied his bundle of record sticks, selected 
one, then began: 

“After our people came here to live, they 
prospered and became very strong. Gitche 
Manito was very kind to them. They had plenty 
of food stored away, and they also had plenty 
of furs. Their neighbors on the north, the 
Mengwe, became jealous of our people’s power 
and prosperity. They feared the strength of our 
forefathers and set about making trouble for 
them. 

“The Mengwe hoped that they could cause a 
war between our people and their friendly south¬ 
ern neighbors, the Talligewi. One day a party 
of Mengwe warriors surprised a hunting party 
of the Talligewi. After robbing and completely 
destroying these hunters, the Mengwe returned 


93 


to their home without leaving any trace of them¬ 
selves. They made several such raids. Then they 
called a council and planned to arrange it so 
that the Talligewi would believe that our people 
had made the attacks. 

“Each of our warriors always carried a war 
club on which were cut his totem and that of his 
tribe. The Mengwe again set upon the Talligewi 
and this time they left a war club marked with 
our totem near the bodies of the dead hunters. 
When the Talligewi found that war club, they 
believed that our people had made the raids. This 
was just what the Mengwe wanted. 

“In return, the Talligewi fell upon a band of 
our hunters and destroyed them. Our people 
saw no reason why the Talligewi should make 
war upon them. The two nations had been at 
peace, and neither had sent a war belt to the 
other. They did not suspect the treachery of 
the Mengwe. However, our people considered 
this act sufficient cause to declare war upon the 
Talligewi, and did so. Soon they took some 
prisoners. From one of these our people learned 
what had happened. Then they knew the 
Mengwe had been the cause of the trouble. 

“Our forefathers called a council. It was de- 


94 


cided to send a messenger to the Talligewi with 
the white wampum belt of peace. The Talligewi 
received the belt, and once more there was peace 
between the two nations. At the same time it was 
decided to drive out the false Mengwe in the 
north. To them was sent a string of dark wam¬ 
pum with red paint upon it. That meant the 
spirit of strife was loose, and that our people had 
declared war upon them. 

“The plans of the Mengwe had failed. They 
were afraid of our people because they knew 
that the Leni-lenape were very strong. Next the 
Mengwe sent messengers to all the bands that 
made up their family, inviting them to a coun¬ 
cil. The Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Onondagas, 
the Cayugas, and the Senecas sat around a great 
council fire. It was decided that these five na¬ 
tions would unite in an attempt to conquer our 
people. They were not able to do this. Our peo¬ 
ple succeeded in driving them back. 

“A strange white-skinned people from across 
the great salt water came just as our people were 
waging this war. They made homes for them¬ 
selves north of the Mengwe. The Mengwe saw 
that these white people also were very strong. 
This became a new worry. The white people 


95 




were taking their land; so the Mengwe declared 
war upon them. Now the Mengwe had trouble 
both on the north and on the south. They de- 
cided that it was necessary for them to make 
peace with their strong red neighbors. If they 
did not, they were afraid they would lose their 
country. The Mengwe called a council and sent 
messengers, carrying a string of white wampum, 
to our war captains. They asked Our tribe to 
meet with them in council. Our people accepted 
the white wampum and went to the meeting. 

“Now, my children, as I told you, the Mengwe i 
were false. We should not have trusted them. As 
soon as they found that they could not fight both 
enemies, they had met to plan another way to 
degrade us.” 

The old warrior spoke with great feeling, and 
his listeners, too, were very serious. He laid aside 
the record stick that he had been reading and 
picked up another. After looking at it a long 
time, he went on with the story. 

“The plan that the Mengwe decided upon 
meant a great deal to them. If it succeeded, they I 
knew that our people could not be other than 
friendly. They would have the help of our strong 
nation. If it did not succeed, then we would be 



their worst enemy. They also knew that if their 
plan did succeed, it would take fame and power 
from our great warriors. 

“Their plan was to make our people act as 
peacemakers. Our warriors were to become 
women. Women do not hold the power to make 
peace, but a woman may go to warring tribes 
and ask for peace. A warrior cannot do that. A 
warrior could not go to an enemy with the white 
wampum belt in one hand and a tomahawk in 
the other. To do that would be as if he wore two 
faces. A woman does not carry the war club of 
the warrior. She can beg for peace. Were it not 
for the women, many tribes would have fought 
until they were destroyed. 

“Women can plead with the warriors. They 
can remind them of their women and children 
at home. They can ask the warriors to go back 
and take care of their families. Women can ask 
those who are fighting to lay down their war 
; clubs and smoke the pipe of peace with their 
neighbors. They can tell the warriors of both 
tribes what brave men they are. The efforts of 
the women are usually successful; most times 
they bring peace. This was the position that the 
Mengwe asked our forefathers to take. 

97 






“This record stick tells me that our people lis¬ 
tened. Our councilmen were wise. They knew 
that everything the Mengwe said was true. The 
tribes would kill each other if the war spirit was 
not put to rest. The white people were coming in 
such great numbers that they would soon occupy 
all the land that the Gitche Manito had given to 
our forefathers. 

“When our councilmen returned from the 
great council fire and reported what the Mengwe 
had planned, our people called a council. They 
did not like to do what had been asked of them. 
They talked about it for a long time. At last, 
unfortunately, they decided to accept the position 
of women. So they laid down their weapons. 

“It was true, as the Mengwe had said, that our! 
people were strongest. It was true that they had 
great courage. It was also true that the tribes of 
all the nations would have great respect for the; 
advice that our men would give. The Mengwe 
had said that the stronger tribes would not listen 
to the advice of a weaker tribe. Our people be¬ 
lieved that it was their duty to end the wars. They 
thought that the Mengwe had been honest in 
their talks in the council. But our men had been 
deceived. 


“Our record sticks show that the plans were 
carried out as the Mengwe had hoped they would 
I be. Our people, the people that the Mengwe 
' feared most, became peacemakers. The bravest 
warriors of the strongest nation had accepted the 
! position of women. A great feast was held. Pray- 
; ers were made to Gitche Manito by placing 
I tobacco on the fire. There were talks by the 
I chiefs and war captains of the Mengwe and by 
I our own men. The three great families of our 
people were declared women. Our men buried 
their war weapon, the tomahawk, with great 
| ceremony. 

“This record stick tells me that our people 
j invited the Mengwe to our great council house. 

| They invited all the tribes to a great feast. The 
; Mengwe laid the long belt of peace, the chain of 
1 friendship, across the shoulders of our three 
I bands. They then invited our people to a feast 
at their home. When the people had gathered 
there, the Mengwe made a great speech, which 
was divided into three talks. 

“In the first talk they declared our people to 
be women. They placed upon us the woman’s 
dress. By this they meant that from that time on 
our people must never again carry the weapons 
99 




of war. When this first talk ended, they gave our' 
tribe a belt of wampum. 

“With the second talk they gave our people a 
bag of oil and another of medicine. With the oil 1 
our men were to clean the ears of other nationsI 
so that they would listen to good advice and not 
to evil. The medicine was for those who were 
foolish; it would make their hearts wish for \ 
peace. When the second talk ended, the Mengwe • 
gave our people a second belt of wampum. 

“In the third talk the Mengwe said that our 
people, the great Leni-lenape family, must make 
the raising of crops their chief occupation. Those ' 
who had been brave warriors were now to hold 
the hoe and the grinder in their hands. Then they 
gave our tribe a third belt of wampum. Our peo¬ 
ple were then peacemakers. Our men were as 
women. 

“For a long time our people did not suspect 
the Mengwe of wrong. Our men did act as 
women. Before our tribe had accepted the three 
belts, they had not allowed the Mengwe to hunt 
on our land. Now they hunted over all our land. 
They also left some of their warriors in each of 
our villages. They said that their warriors re¬ 
mained to protect our people. The Mengwe 


100 


crossed our country to visit our neighbors. We 
did not object. 

“This record stick says that at last we learned 
how false the Mengwe were. They tried to do 
again what they had done before. Some of their 
warriors went into the Talligewi country and 
destroyed a band of hunters. As before, they left 
a war club with the Leni-lenape totem cut on it. 
The Talligewi were again deceived. They be¬ 
lieved that our people had betrayed them, and 
they sent a war party against our tribe. The 
Mengwe expected that this would happen and 
were ready. They sent a messenger to our vil¬ 
lage. He told our people that a war party from 
the Talligewi was on its way. The Mengwe 
asked our people to send men to meet a band of 
their warriors that was being sent to protect our 
village. The messenger said that our men would 
be protected. 

“Our forefathers thought that the Mengwe 
were trying to do their duty, and our men were 
sent to the appointed place. But the Mengwe 
were not there. Instead the Talligewi-came and 
attacked our men, who were not prepared to 
fight, and nearly destroyed them. However, the 
Mengwe were not far away. They had been 

IOI 



watching, and when the fight was over, they came 
forward. They told our men that they should 
have waited for the brave Mengwe to arrive. 
Our people then suspected that the Mengwe 
were not acting in good faith. 

“Our men returned to their homes and sent 
messengers to the Talligewi. Messengers sent 
from one tribe to another are always respected; 
so our messengers reached the Talligewi un¬ 
harmed. Our people asked what was the cause 
of the trouble. The Talligewi told them the truth. 
Both peoples again found that the Mengwe were 
the trouble makers. They had even promised to 
help the Talligewi conquer the great Leni- 
lenape. 

“The messengers returned and repeated what 
they had learned to our people. Our war captain 
called a council. This was the first council of 
war held by our people since they had become 
peacemakers. The council decided that our men 
would no longer act as women. They would no 
longer be peacemakers. The warriors, with 
much ceremony, dug up the buried tomahawk. 
Our forefathers said that the Mengwe were no 
more than croaking frogs in a tiny pool. They 
made a great noise when all was quiet, but they 


102 



were ready to jump into the pool at the rustling 
of a leaf. A war belt was prepared and sent to 
the Mengwe. Our people were again happy. 

“When the Mengwe received the belt, they 
were greatly troubled. They knew that their 
plans had failed and that the Leni-lenape were 
now their enemies. They sent messengers with 
peace belts to our people, but our people would 
not accept them. Our men would not let their 
ears listen to any plan for peace. They sent the 
messengers back with the belts. They told the 
messengers to tell their people that the war belt 
our young warriors had carried to them was the 
answer to their talk. 

“The Leni-lenape men were again warriors. 
They called a great feast and offered their pray¬ 
ers to Gitche Manito. They danced the great 
war dance. This was the first time that they had 
danced in many snows. The three tribes of our 
people met in a council and threw off the belts 
that the Mengwe had placed on their shoulders. 
They were no longer women. They were now 
• ‘men of men.’ It was in this council that our peo¬ 
ple laid the plans for the war in which they pun¬ 
ished the Mengwe for their treachery.” 

The Storyteller had read the last record stick. 

103 





Now he reached over and picked them all up: 
from the floor beside him. As he carefully tied 
them into a bundle he said, “I have read the rec¬ 
ords as they are marked on these sticks. You 
have learned more of the story of your people.! 
Try not to forget the things that you have heard.” 

Then the old warrior threw some tobacco on 
the fire, and when its smoke rose through the 
smoke hole, he ended the story-telling for the 
day by saying, “It is getting late. Run home to 
your evening meals.” 

The boys listened respectfully until the old 
man finished speaking; then they went out of: 
his wigwam. As they left, they thanked him, as 
usual, for the story of their people. 

Little Bear and Star again walked together!. 
They talked of the story they had just heard, and, 
like all the other boys, they were glad that their 
men had thrown off woman’s clothing. Now 
their fathers were warriors, and they, themselves,! 
could grow up to be proud of Leni-lenape, the 
“real men.” 

Star went with Little Bear to his wigwam. 
There they found Little Bear’s father sitting be¬ 
side the fire and making a fish spear. 

After the boys had warmed themselves, the 

IO4 




father said to Star, “Tomorrow Little Bear and 
I are going into the wilderness near the river to 
i find a good sycamore tree out of which we can 
I make a boat. Tell your father that we are going, 
j. Perhaps he also needs a new boat, and we can 
I work together.” 

Star and Little Bear were delighted. They 
| liked to go into the wilderness with their fathers. 

Star hurried out of the wigwam and ran all the 
i way home. He was eager to give his father the 
I message, and, besides, the day was growing old. 

A strong cold wind was beginning to blow, and 
' he was glad that he did not have far to go. 

At home his father and mother and sister were 
I waiting for him. The evening meal was ready. 
Star went to his mat beside the fire and watched 

I the smoke from the tobacco offering drift toward 
the smoke hole. There the wind caught it in its 
icy fingers and whisked it into the air. Star heard 
| the wind whistle outside as it passed through the 
I trees near his wigwam. 

As soon as he could, the boy told his father that 
I Little Bear and his father were going into the 
I wilderness the next day. He said, “Little Bear’s 
I father is going to build a new boat. He told me 
I to ask you if you needed one. If you do, we can 


105 




all go into the wilderness together, and I can 
help you.” 

“I do need a new boat,” Star’s father replied. 
Then he pointed to the roof of the wigwam and 
added, “Listen, my son, the Manito of the North 
is talking. He is telling us that he is bringing a 
storm. Unless the Wind People go back to their 
wigwams, none of us can go to the wilderness 
tomorrow.” 

Star went to bed, and to his prayers he added 
the wish that North Wind would get tired and 
return to his cave. 




A DAY IN THE FOREST 

It was very dark when Star opened his eyes 
the next morning. “Perhaps the night clouds 
have not yet gone to their caves,” he thought. As 
he rose from his warm bed of furs, he listened 
and heard North Wind blowing hard outside. 
Then he looked around the dimly lighted room 
and saw his mother and his sister at the fire, pre¬ 
paring the early meal. 

Star was disappointed. He did not need to ask 
his father to know that they could not go to the 
wilderness on that day. Walking slowly to the 
door of the wigwam, he pushed aside the matting 
and looked out. Dark clouds were low and 
stormy. It was cold. Instead of growing tired, 
the Wind People were growing stronger and 
stronger. 

“Hurry, brother,” called Star’s sister. “I am 
hungry. Our early meal is waiting.” 

Star dropped the mat that closed the door, 
walked over to his place, and sat down. He did 
not smile. He did not feel hungry. 

The father saw that his boy was unhappy. He 


107 



put his hand on Star’s shoulder and said, “Come, • 
my son. We shall make a prayer to the Manito; 
of the North as soon as we have eaten. Perhaps 
he will answer our prayer. If Father Sun should 
come out of his wigwam, we will go to the wilder¬ 
ness tomorrow.” 

That made Star feel better. He thanked his 
father and ate his corn meal and meat stew. After 
the meal the father made his offering to the Ma- • 
nito of the North. 

All that morning North Wind was an angry 
spirit. He rode down upon the village and the 
forest in a great whirlwind. He picked up great; 
trees, whose roots had woven a firm grip in 
Mother Earth, and crashed them to the ground. 
His fury frightened the man people in their little 
villages as well as the animal people in the wil-; 
derness. The man people put tobacco on their ! 
fires and sent prayers to the manitos of the Four 
Winds and the heavens. 

Early in the afternoon the Manito of the North 
hushed the angry voice of North Wind, but gray 
clouds continued to roll across the heavens. Star 
and Little Bear joined each other outside Little 
Bear’s home and watched the sky, hoping the? 
heavy clouds would roll away. When it was 


108 



almost time for them to go to their evening 
meal, the boys saw the sun trying to scatter the 
clouds and smile a good night. 

“Look,” said Star. “The sun is driving away 
the clouds. Perhaps it will be clear tomorrow.” 

“Yes,” Little Bear replied. “I think that Father 
Sun is promising us a bright day for tomorrow. 
Let us take our bows and arrows when we go to 
the wilderness.” 

Two happy boys watched the sun until it 
reached the western sky. As it dropped behind 
the mountain there, it painted the cold snow with 
a warm glow. Little Bear and Star parted, but 
first they planned to meet very early the next 
morning and welcome the sun when he came to 
bring them joy. 

Both boys were up the next day before the 
night clouds had gone to their rest. They joined 
each other in the village square and watched the 
gray light of early morning steal over the low 
hills. The morning light was warning the night 
clouds that Father Sun was awakening. When 
the first rays from Father Sun turned the gray 
light a faint pink, the hearts of Star and Little 
Bear filled with happiness, for then they knew 
that Father Sun surely was on his way and that 


109 






they would go to the wilderness that day. Soon 
the boys saw smoke begin to curl out of the wig¬ 
wams, and by that they knew that the women 
were up and preparing the morning meals. The 
boys ran to their homes to get ready for a day of 
fun in the forest. 

Each boy ate his meal quickly, picked up his 
bow and arrows, and then waited patiently for 
his father. 

While his son waited, each father, in his own 
wigwam, made a prayer to Gitche Manito and his 
twelve helpers. Then each rubbed his body with 
bear’s oil. That would protect him from the cold 
when he took off his robe to work. After putting 
some dried meat and some maple sugar in bags 
to carry with them, the two fathers picked up 
their bows and arrows, their fire sticks, and their 
stone axes, and all started toward the river. The 
trees were large there, and, after making the dug- 
out boats, it would be easier to get them into the 
water. 

The fathers and sons went out of the village 
and into the woodlands. 

“Be very quiet,” a father said. “Perhaps you 
can get some fresh meat to take home.” 

As soon as they entered the great hunting 


no 





A Porcupine 


■ 












ground, the boys were told to climb a tree and 
see if there were any game near. That was really 
done to teach the boys to use their eyes. The boys 
did as they were bidden, and looked around close 
by as well as into the distance. They did not see 
anything. Perhaps they were in too much of a 
hurry to look carefully. 

Almost at once, after they came down out of 
the tree, the boys found tracks showing where a f 
rabbit had hopped about. They asked if they 
might follow the trail, and their fathers gave ‘ 
them permission. 

The tracks led straight ahead toward an old l 
log that was lying half buried in the snow. As 
the boys walked toward the log, they came upon 
some more tracks. These started from the end 
of a hollow log. The boys stopped and studied f 
them. 

“These are the tracks of a weasel,” said Star. 
“They are going right toward the tracks of the 
rabbit. The weasel is following the rabbit.” 

The boys knew that the poor rabbit could not 
escape his enemy. A weasel never stops until he 
has caught his prey. 

“Let us hurry,” suggested Little Bear. “May¬ 
be we will be in time to frighten the weasel.” 



The boys ran. The log was just ahead. When 
they reached the log, they stopped. They had got¬ 
ten there too late. Just beyond the log were the 
tracks of the weasel, but there were no rabbit 
tracks. The spirit of the rabbit had gone to join 
his forefathers. His body was lying in the snow 
to tell the story. The weasel had caught him. 
He had not eaten the rabbit, for a weasel seldom 
eats his prey—he only sucks the blood. The boys 
felt sorry for the poor little rabbit. They picked 
him up and ran to join their fathers. 

Soon the four Indians came to a great pine 
tree. The boys noticed that all around the bottom 
of the tree lay small pieces of bark on the snow. 
As they were looking at the telltale bark, a small 
piece, in falling, hit Little Bear on the top of his 
head. 

“There is something in this tree,” said Little 
Bear, brushing his head. 

The two boys looked up to see which one of 
the animal people made his home there. The 
boys thought that whatever it was, it must be 
brave. It certainly must have seen their fathers 
pass, but it had not run away to hide. 

“There he is,” said Star. “Look! It is a large 
porcupine. He is not afraid of us. He is not 


even afraid of the lynx. He knows he can pro- i 
tect himself with his long sharp quills. He is i 
brave. The wilderness people seldom attack him 
unless they are very hungry.” 

“I remember my father’s telling about him,” / 
replied Little Bear. “He said that a porcupine j 
curls himself up for protection and that the other | 
animal people are afraid of his sharp quills. The 1 
quills are barbed, and if an animal should get 
some of them caught in his mouth, he cannot get 
them out again. The quills work themselves into ■ 
the flesh and may cause the animal to starve to I 
death.” 

The boys did not bother the brave porcupine. 1 
They hurried on. A short way ahead they could | 
see their fathers trying to find trees that would 1 
make boats of the size they wanted. They were | 
hunting for two large sycamore trees whose low- ] 
est limbs were at least four bow lengths from the I 
ground. The boys knew that their fathers would I 
not need them until they had decided on the trees; 1 
so they continued to hunt for secrets of the woods, f 

All around were the small tracks made by little 
snow buntings in search of food. 

“Those little birds must be hungry,” said Little ] 
Bear. 





v>-:- x«i >£ . r:>->.'-- 


::: 

:liP 


<>'■; . v , 

;: • ::: ; :v>>;^: : /j 

mm 




Elk Drinking at the River 






















“It is very hard for them to find food when the 
woodlands are covered with snow,” explained 
Star. “Let us share our corn bread with them.” 

Each boy broke off a little of the corn bread 
that he carried in his bag and scattered crumbs 
for the little birds to find. 

Next the boys came across the trail of a large 
elk, that led away from the river into the wilder¬ 
ness. He must have gone down to the river for 
a drink. The boys could see where he had been 
digging in the snow with his hoofs to find food. 
They followed his tracks until they led over a 
small hill. The boys knew they should not go 
farther, but just over the top, on the north side 
of the hill, they saw where a deer had been lying 
down to rest. It could not rest on the south side 
of the hill. The sun melted the snow there, and 
wet snow makes a damp bed. 

Here the boys met another tragedy of the wil¬ 
derness—just a few feathers scattered about and 
the marks of wings scratched into the snow. Star 
had seen that once before when his father had 
taken him into the wilderness. 

“The horned owl, in his silent search for food, 
spied a ruffled grouse and pounced upon him,” 
Star told Little Bear. “The grouse might have 
116 



been asleep. The owl travels in search of food 
only at night. He caught the grouse in his talons 
and, perhaps, carried it away to his nest where 
he could have a feast all by himself.” 

“By now our fathers should have found the 
trees that they want,” said Little Bear. “It is time 
for us to go back and help them.” 

The boys hurried. It did not take them long 
to get back. They were not hunting now; so 
they did not have to be careful to walk silently 
for fear of frightening game. 

When they reached the river, their fathers had 
started to put a ring of wet clay all around the 
bottom of each of two trees. After the wet clay 
was in place, the boys brought brush, and a ring 
of fire was built around the base of each tree. The 
wet clay prevented the fire from burning too far 
up the trunk. As the fire burned into the tree 
trunks, the fathers used their axes to cut out the 
charred wood. The trees were very large. It 
took a long time to burn them deeply enough to 
make them fall. The boys helped their fathers by 
keeping a plentiful supply of dried brush, bark, 
twigs, and pieces of wood ready for use. 

After the fire was burning well, the boys pre¬ 
pared the rabbit. They cut it into good-sized 


pieces. Then they found long pointed sticks of 
green wood and pushed the sharp ends of the 
sticks through the meat. The boys held the meat 
over the fire and turned it around and around so 
that it would not burn. As soon as it was cooked, 
they called their fathers to the feast. 

The boys were having a good time. They had 
not noticed the sun traveling across the sky. 
They were surprised when they saw their fathers 
start to put out the fires. It could not be time to 
go home so soon! It seemed as though they had 
been there only a very short time. The boys 
looked at the sun. Father Sun always told the 
truth.* He knew it was nearly time to rest and had 
almost reached the western sky. 

Star and Little Bear were sorry that the day 
was almost over, but they knew that it would take 
many days before the new boats were done. They 
ran to help put out the fires. Fires spread if they 
are not watched. There may be very little danger 
of forest fires in the winter, but Indian fathers 
never forgot to teach their boys that great lesson 
even in the snow months. When Mother Nature 
awakens, there is always danger. Just a tiny spark 
left behind when the woodlands need rain might 
cause great misfortune to man and animal. 

118 


When every spark of fire was out, the boys 
and their fathers started for the village. Star and 
Little Bear did not know that they were tired un¬ 
til they started for home. They had been up very 
early that morning and had traveled a great dis¬ 
tance during the day, hunting for the secrets of 
the wilderness. Now, when the day was done, 
they began to wish that the trail to the village was 
not so long. They were hungry, too. There were 
many new tracks, but the boys did not follow 
them. They just followed along behind their 
fathers. 

Little Bear and Star were happy when they 
entered the village. However, neither wanted to 
play. Each said good night and went to his own 
wigwam. The fathers as well as the boys were 
ready to eat their evening meals. They made 
their prayers to the Manito of the Air for another 
good day, and the boys snuggled down into their 
warm beds. Little Bear heard his father telling 
of their day in the wilderness. His father’s voice 
seemed to drift farther and farther away; then it 
seemed to lose itself, and all was still. 







MAKING NEW BOATS 


“Wake up, my boy. The sun will soon come 
out of his wigwam. Your mother has the early 
meal all ready. It is time that we were starting 
for the wilderness.” Little Bear’s father was call¬ 
ing him. 

Little Bear sat up and rubbed his eyes. He had 
slept so soundly that he had not heard his mother 
moving about. At first he did not know where 
he was. He had been dreaming, and he thought 
he was still in the wilderness. He jumped out of 
his bed and ran to the fire. The corn meal and 
the meat were waiting, and Little Bear sat down 
with his mother and his father to eat. He quickly 
finished his bowl of food and hurried to get his 
bow and arrows. Just as he reached for his bow, 
he heard Star call. 

Little Bear’s father heard Star, too. He rose to' 
his feet and gathered together his bow and ar¬ 
rows, his ax, the bag with the fire sticks, and some 
corn cakes and meat. Then he and his son went 
out of the wigwam and joined their friends. The 
four of them would have to go to the wilderness 


120 


many days before the new boats would be ready 
to put into the water. 

There had been a light fall of snow during the 
night. The boys were glad that they had not seen 
the snow falling. If they had seen the snow 
clouds, they might have had bad dreams. The 
fresh snow had hidden all the old tracks. Only 
new tracks, those made during the night or in the 
early morning, could be seen. 

The two boys ran ahead. They thought their 
fathers were very slow. Star and Little Bear could 
hardly wait to get into the wilderness. By the 
time the men came through the gate to the village, 
the boys were already up a tree. They were let¬ 
ting their eyes tell them if there was any game 
near. Then, too, they knew their fathers would 
bid them climb a tree if they had not already done 
so. As soon as they knew that their fathers had 
seen them, the boys came down. They were off 
for another day full of fun. 

The snow was covered with a lacework of tiny 
tracks. Mice had been out looking for food. The 
boys thought that possibly the mice had met in 
council before anyone was up. Or perhaps they 
were running back and forth, visiting one an¬ 
other. The mice had their wigwams in holes 


121 




under the roots of trees or under rocks. There : 
must have been a great many out, but now they 
had all gone back to their homes. None were 
to be seen anywhere. Perhaps at that very mo- j 
ment they were peeping out of their holes, won- > 
dering what those big man people wanted and 
just waiting for them to pass so that they, the j 
mice, could go on with their play. 

Farther on, under a big hickory tree, the boys 
noticed that something had been scratching and 
digging in the snow. 

“See, the squirrels have been here. They have 
been digging. They must have thought they 
could find hickory nuts that fell late. Or perhaps 
they left some nuts behind when they were gath¬ 
ering their harvest last fall.” Star was looking 
all around under the tree as he talked. 

Little Bear asked him if he was trying to find 
some nuts. “You know there are no nuts here 
now,” said Little Bear. “The squirrels have ' 
already eaten all there were for their early morn¬ 
ing meal. See the shells lying around? Most 
likely they had enough stored away without 
these, anyway. The squirrels love to hunt as well 
as we do.” 

The boys hurried along to catch up with their 


122 




fathers. There was no time to play this morning. 
They gathered pieces of bark, bits of brush, and 
twigs as they walked behind the warriors. 

By the time they reached the river, the boys 
had plenty of wood to start the fires. First they 
helped their fathers put a new band of wet clay 
around the trunks of the trees. When that was 
done, the men took out their fire sticks and put 
some dry punk on the fire boards. They worked 
the fire sticks until they had a spark. It did not 
take them very long. While they were starting 
the spark, the boys piled dry wood around the 
bottoms of the trees where the fires had burned 
the day before. 

Then they hurried off to gather more wood. 
They brought in all they could find near at hand. 
That made quite a pile. After that the boys were 
free to walk along the shore of the river and look 
for tracks left by the wilderness people. The boys 
knew that they had gathered enough wood to 
keep the fires burning for some time. It would 
last until they came back if they did not stay too 
long, but they did not need to hurry. If they 
always had plenty of wood ready, their fathers 
would bring them each time that they came, and 
the boys wanted their fathers to need them. 

123 



Alder and hazelnut bushes were plentiful, 
on the shore of the river. Noticing this, the 
boys decided to make piles of these bushes as 
they walked along. Then when they came back, ij 
they could gather the wood and carry it to the 
fires. As they broke the wood and stacked it, they i 
watched for tracks and other signs of animal life. 
Star was the first to find an interesting trail. 

“Look,” he called to Little Bear. “Here are 
some tracks. They were made by a lynx. Shall 
we follow and see what it is that he is hunting? 
These tracks were made this morning. Be care¬ 
ful. He may not be far away.” 

The two boys cautiously followed the trail. It 
led them toward a bend where the river ran 
through a little valley between two hills. There, 
frozen into the edge of the ice, Star and Little 
Bear noticed pieces of wood and sticks that had ■ 
been gnawed by some of the wilderness people. 

“This is the work of beavers,” said Star. “There 
must be a dam somewhere near here. I think the 
lynx must be hunting for the beaver dam.” 

“There is the dam,” said Little Bear. “These 
tracks lead right to it.” 

The boys crept along very quietly and kept 
themselves hidden among the bushes. They did 


124 



not want the lynx to see or hear them. They hoped 
to surprise him at the dam, but they were too late. 
The lynx had been an early visitor. The ice and 
snow all along the shore were covered with his 
tracks, and there were several deep scratches. 
The lynx had tried to dig an opening large 
enough to get into the home of the beavers, but 
the ice was frozen so solidly that it protected 
those wise little animals. The boys knew how 
frightened the beavers must have been. They 
thought that the beaver people must be very 
grateful to the Manito of the North for his pro¬ 
tection. The lynx was not able to break the strong, 
icy grip of the cold spirits on their wigwam. 

Star and little Bear looked all around. They 
could not see the lynx anywhere. They wondered 
if he had heard them coming and had hidden. 

“Perhaps the lynx has gone on to hunt for 
easier prey. He must have been very hungry to 
dig so deep into the ice,” said Star. “I think we 
have been gone long enough. We had better go 
back and help our fathers.” 

“Yes,” agreed Little Bear. “We could not pro¬ 
tect ourselves from a lynx with our little bows 
and arrows. If he is very hungry, he might at¬ 
tack us.” 


125 




■ 







The Lynx Trying to Dig an Opening 











The two boys crept from their hiding place. 
As they walked back toward their fathers, they 
gathered the wood they had stacked. Just as they 
were stooping to pick up one pile they heard a 
terrible crash. Both boys straightened up. They 
were frightened. They turned quickly and 
looked behind them. They had been thinking of 
the lynx; that was what frightened them. In a 
moment they realized what had caused the great 
noise. 

“Star,” said Little Bear, “we must have been 
gone a long time. That was one of the trees fall¬ 
ing. We had better hurry.” 

From then on the boys ran along, picking up 
the wood as they came to each pile. Before they 
reached their fathers, they heard another giant 
of the forest crash to the ground. By the time 
they came to the fallen trees, each had his arms 
piled high with brush and wood. The boys told 
their fathers what they had seen, and said that 
they had not noticed how fast the sun was travel¬ 
ing on his way to rest. The fathers told them that 
it was all right this time. They had brought 
plenty of wood before, and there was still some 
of it left. The new wood could be saved until 
they were ready to go on with their work. 


127 


The trees were beginning to cast their shadows! 
toward the east. The fathers knew that the boys 
must be very hungry. They had not eaten since 
they had left their wigwams. That was when the 
morning was still gray. It was before there were, 
any shadows at all. 

“We shall eat before we start to work again,” 
said Little Bear’s father. 

The men opened the bags they had brought, 
and took out corn cakes and dried meat. The' 
food tasted good, but the boys wished that they: 
also had some of the good broth that was always* 
boiling over the fire at home. But Little Bear and 
Star sat where Father Sun could send his bright 
rays to shine on them. The warm rays and the 
food soon made them feel good. 

When they were through eating, the boys 
stood up and asked their fathers what they should] 
do next. The men looked at the trees that were] 
lying on the ground. 

“You boys can help us prepare these trees 
now,” said Little Bear’s father. 

Each man gave his boy an ax. Every bit of 
the bark had to be cut from the trunks of the trees. 
The boys started to chip off the bark, and the 
fathers began to work on the ends of the trees. 


128 



Making a Dug out Boat 








First they decided how long they would make;' 
their boats, and then they began to burn and cut 
off the parts that would not be needed. 

The forest sent back echoes of the chopping 
and chipping. The wilderness people thus werej 
warned that an enemy was near. Large animals 
hurried away from the noise that was breaking 
the silence of their homes. Star’s father pointed j 
to a moose that was silently disappearing into the 
woodland. 

The trees were not far apart. The fathers] 
talked, and the boys called to each other. The 
little woodland people who lived in near-by trees 
became curious to learn the meaning of the 
strange chattering. They would take one little 
peep, and then hurry back to their warm nests 
and snuggle down to hide. At first neither the 
bright eyes of the two boys nor the carefully! 
trained eyes of the fathers could find the small 
woodland people. But after a while the little 
animals lost their fear. The noise bothered them, 
and they dared to come out and scold. They ob¬ 
jected to having their rest disturbed. The boys 
and their fathers did not harm them. It was good 
to see the wilderness alive again. 

The two boys worked steadily at cutting off 


130 


every bit of bark. When they had chipped it all 
from the long sides of their logs, the boys and 
men pushed together to roll the logs over, first 
one and then the other. In that way the boys 
could keep right on with their work. 

The fathers were busy shaping the ends of the 
great tree trunks. First they started small fires 
at the ends of the logs. As the wood burned, they 
cut off the part that was charred; then they 
scraped the log. As soon as one end was shaped 
as they wanted it, they started on the other. They 
scraped and scraped until both ends of their boat 
were done. 

Then the men were ready to hollow out the 
i logs. They put wet clay along the side of each 
lone to mark the part that was not to be burned. 
Then a fire was built along the top of each log. 
The wet clay would keep the fires from burning 
too close to the outside. As the fires burned out 
the insides of the boats, the fathers cut, chipped, 
and scraped. This was hard work, and it would 
take many days before the boats would be ready 
for the river. 

When a resting time came, the fathers taught 
j their sons to use the bow and arrow. Of course 
: they had to shoot at a mark. The telltale echoes 




of the chopping and scraping had long ago 
warned the woodland people, and they stayed far 
away from danger. The boys often climbed trees 
to train their eyes. They hoped to become great 
hunters, like their fathers. They listened care¬ 
fully and tried to remember all that their fathers 
were teaching them. 

The fathers listened as the boys told them of 
the things they saw as they were going through 
the woods. The warriors were pleased to know 
that their boys were using their eyes. That was 
the only way they would ever learn the ways of 
the wilderness people. Gitche Manito gave eyes; 
and ears to man and animal people alike. 
The animal people seemed to know how to use 
their eyes and ears from the time they were born. 
The man people had to be taught to use theirs. 





THE WICKED NAKED BEAR 


The sun was coming farther and farther north 
every day. It was bringing its warm rays to 
loosen the icy fingers of the cold spirits. They 
had gripped the shores of the river for many 
moons. Not for a long time had the Red People 
heard the happy song of the water as it played 
with the banks that led it over the trail to the big 
salt water. Now it was no longer safe to walk 
on the river, for the ice was melting. 

One day Little Bear and Star thought they saw 
a very thin strip of ice near the shore. They ran 
to find some long sticks. With the sticks they 
reached over and tapped the thin film of ice. 
It broke, and they watched the water slowly 
creep out of the hole. The water was free once 
again. Soon it would dance and play in the warm 
sunshine. That was a happy surprise for the 
boys. They ran to the village to tell the good 
news. 

“It is good that we made new fishhooks! And 
new lines, too!” Little Bear called to Star as they 
ran side by side to the wigwams. “I am glad 


133 



that we made them while it was still too cold to 
go fishing. Now they are ready to use.” 

The two friends told everyone they met that 
the ice was breaking, and everybody became ex- j 
cited. All the young boys, especially, were glad 
to hear the news, for it meant that almost the 
whole village would soon move to the sugar 
camp. Making maple sugar was not work for 
the Red People. Everyone went to the sugar 
camp to have a good time. 

Little Bear ran to his wigwam. His mother 
and father were sitting near the fire. They were 
talking. Little Bear, though excited over his 
good news, did not interrupt his parents. If he 
had interrupted them, he would have had to listen 
while his father told him that he must learn to 
respect his elders. His father would have re¬ 
minded him that he should never break into a 
conversation. Little Bear knew that. The father 
noticed the sparkle in his son’s dark eyes and saw 
that he had something to tell them. When the 
mother had finished speaking, the father turned 
to his boy. 

“My son,” he said, “what is it that you wish to 
tell us?” 

“The ice is breaking!” Little Bear exclaimed. 


134 


“Star and I have seen the open water. In the 
sunshine the ice is soft and thin. Star and I would 
like to try to catch some fish.” Little Bear then 
turned to his mother and went on, “When you 
are making bread today, will you make some for 
me to take with us? Star and I would like to 
make our offering before we fish.” 

Little Bear’s mother replied that she would 
prepare his offering for him at once. She took 
out her bowl and began to pound corn into flour. 
She ground until the cornmeal was as fine as 
she could make it. Then she mixed the corn 
bread that she wanted for the evening meal. A 
little of this dough she patted until it was very 
flat, and then carefully shaped it into the form 
of a fish. This she placed on one of the hot, flat 
stones in the fire, and left it to bake. 

She made a number of the corn-bread fish. If 
the ice was breaking, her hunter would also need 
! some for his prayer to the Water Manito before 
starting to fish. Little Bear watched his mother 
I make the rest of the dough into corn-bread cakes 

1 for supper. Then he sat near the fire and watched 

i the corn-bread fish so that they would not burn. 

When the fish were baked, Little Bear s moth¬ 
er handed him two. The boy thanked her. As 
i35 



he very carefully put them away, he told her that 
he was happy to have one for his friend as well 
as one for himself. 

“Perhaps Star’s mother is not baking bread 
today,” he said. “Star will be grateful that you 
made one for him, too.” 

Little Bear wanted to run over immediately 
and tell Star that he had their offering ready, 
but his father stopped him. 

“No, my boy,” said the father. “It is too late. 
Your mother has our evening meal ready. It is 
time to eat.” 

Little Bear was disappointed. He did not 
know how he would ever be able to wait until 
morning, but he knew there was no use asking 
again. His father and mother did not like to 
have him away when the meal was ready. Little 
Bear disobeyed his mother very, very seldom. 
When he did, she would say, “The naked bear 
will eat you.” That is what she told him when 
he came home late from play. 

She said the same thing when he did things 
that she and his father did not approve of. Little 
Bear did not like to hear her say that. It made 
his skin feel cold and creepy. Of course, he 
knew it was only a story of the Long Ago. 

136 



Penn Belt 


Wampum Belts Made oj Shells 






























When Little Bear saw that the evening meal 
was ready, he went to his mat and sat down. 
His mother gave him a wooden bowl full of food. 
She also gave him a piece of the cornmeal bread 
she had just made. It was still hot, and it tasted 
very good, because of the maple sugar she had 
put on it. 

Little Bear was hungry. Everything was so 
good that he asked for a second helping. Of 
course his mother gave it to him. As long as 
there was plenty to eat in an Indian wigwam, 
everyone could have all he wanted. After the 
meal the father made his usual prayer of thanks 
to Gitche Manito, the Giver of All Things. Then 
the family sat on their mats before the fire to talk. 

As he watched the ever-changing motion of 
the flames, Little Bear sat and thought. If he 
had run to tell his friend about the fish cakes, 
he would have disobeyed, and his mother would 
have said, “The naked bear will eat you.” He 
felt strange when she said that; yet he liked to 
hear the story. He had been thinking of it all 
through the meal. He wondered if his mother 
would tell it to him now. 

“My mother, will you tell me the story of the 
naked bear once more?” asked Little Bear. 


138 


“Sit still and listen,” the mother replied. Then 
she began the story. 

“A very, very long time ago there were not 
many people in this world. At that time a great 
many monsters lived here. The monsters al¬ 
ways made a great deal of trouble for the man 
people. They were so big and so strong that 
for a long time our forefathers did not know how 
to make war upon them. 

“It was in those days that the great naked bear 
roamed in the forests and over the mountains. 
His skin was naked except for a tuft of white 
hair on his back. His sense of smell was very 
keen, but his eyesight was very poor—he had 
never trained his eyes. He not only ate the chil¬ 
dren, but he also caught and ate the hunters. 

“But the bold, bad bear was afraid of the Water 
Manito. He did not have courage enough to go 
near water. That was why the hunters always 
stayed near streams or rivers when they went 
out for meat. They never dared to go into the 
wilderness, where the animal people loved to 
hide, because the naked bear might be there. 
When the great bear’s nose told him that a hunter 
was near, he followed the scent. Of course, the 
hunter’s eyes were trained. He could see the 


i39 




bear long before that wicked animal could see 
him. Those hunters had trained their eyes just 
as your father is teaching you to train yours. As 
soon as a hunter saw the naked bear, he ran for 
water. Then he was glad he had learned to run 
when he was a boy. The naked bear would never 
follow him into the water. 

“One day a band of the bravest hunters went 
into the wilderness. All the people were hungry. 
They needed meat, and the animal people were 
hidden in the forest. The hunters were very 
careful to walk so that the wind always blew 
toward them and not toward their enemy. Then 
the wind could not warn the monster that hunters 
were in the forest. The men climbed trees to 
look far off in the distance. That was the only 
way they could discover the home of the monster. 

“From high up in a tree a hunter saw the 
bear. The bear was asleep near his cave at the 
bottom of a very high cliff. That was how the 
Indians discovered the home of the monster. 

“The hunters hurried back to the village. 
They told their sachem what they had seen, and 
he called a council. He invited all the hunters 
and warriors to meet and talk. The boldest and 
bravest of the hunters were eager to declare war 


140 


upon the monster. They decided to rid the coun¬ 
try of the naked bear that hunted their people. 

“The first day that the wind blew toward them, 
the brave men started off on their task. Before 
they left the village, they said good-by to their 
families and friends. They knew that if they did 
not succeed, the naked bear would catch them 
and they would never return. The war party 
traveled very carefully. The monster’s ears as 
well as his nose were always ready to warn him. 

“At last the hunters reached the top of the great 
cliff. They looked over the edge but did not see 
the monster. They thought that he must be in 
his cave. The hunter warriors made a great 
noise. They gave the war whoop. The naked 
bear heard it and came out of his cave to see 
what was happening. When he saw the man 
people above him, he tried to climb the rocky 
cliff, but it was too steep. In his rage he tore at 
the rocks with his great teeth and claws. 

“The hunters shot at him with their bows and 
arrows. They sent many swift arrows toward 
his very small heart, but none of them reached 
its mark. The arrows only hurt the monster, 
making him more angry than ever. He became 
furious, and the hunters saw that arrows were 


not strong enough to put an end to him. They 
knew that they must find a way to destroy him, 
or he would destroy them. 

“The warriors hastily talked together and de¬ 
cided that the only thing they could do was to 
try to break their enemy’s back. The brave men 
dropped their bows and began throwing big 
stones at the bear. The rocks did not seem to 
bother him at all. The hunters became very much 
worried, for they were having no success and 
the monster was now tearing at the cliff right 
under them. There were some great boulders 
nearby on the top of the cliff. Using all their 
strength together, the men rolled the largest 
boulder to the edge of the cliff. There they held 
it until the bear was directly underneath; then 
they pushed it over the edge and watched it fall. 
It fell straight down, and with a great crash broke 
the monster’s back. 

“The hunters let out a great cry of victory 
and descended the steep sides of the cliff. Near 
their prey they built a little fire, into which they 
threw some tobacco. That was their thanks to 
the Manito of the Rocks for his help. Then 
the warriors went back to tell their people what 
had happened. 


142 



“The brave men entered the village, singing 
the song of victory. They had overcome the 
great enemy of their people. Everybody heard 
the song. It made them happy, and young and 
old alike came out to welcome the brave war¬ 
riors. The people made a great feast. At it the 
whole village gave thanks to Gitche Manito and 
to his twelve helpers. The people rejoiced be¬ 
cause they would not have to go hungry any 
more. From then on, whenever they pleased, 
they could go into the forest where the animal 
people hid themselves. 

“All that happened long, long ago, my son. 
Nobody has ever seen a naked bear since then. 
That is why we can go into the forest today 
without fear. Now it is time for you to sleep, 
my boy.” 

Little Bear thanked his mother for the story. 
He was glad to hear her say that nobody had 
ever seen a naked bear since that time. He said 
good night; then lay down in his bed. Soon it 
was dark. The red coals in the fire had also gone 
to rest. 

When next the little boy opened his eyes, the 
sun was peeping over the mountain toward the 
east. He jumped out of bed and sat down with 


M3 


his father and mother to eat the early meal. He 
was in a hurry, for this was the day on which ' 
he and Star had planned to go fishing. As soon i 
as his father and mother had finished eating, he i 
asked if he might go to Star, and this time his ; 
parents gave their permission. 

Carrying his fishhooks, his line, and the corn- 
bread fish his mother had made, Little Bear hap¬ 
pily went out of the wigwam to meet Star. Be¬ 
sides his fishhooks and his line, Star took along 
his spear. The two boys started toward the river,, 
hoping, as they went along, that they could bring 
home some fish. They did not hurry. The sun 
had been awake only a short time and had not 
yet loosened the ice that had formed during the 
night. 

“Try to hit that stump with your spear,” sug- i 
gested Little Bear. “Let us practice throwing on 
our way.” 

Star poised his spear with his right hand. It 
was not a big spear such as the men used, but a 
little one that his father had made for him to 
practice with. Star threw it with all his strength. 

It went through the snow, hit the hard ground 
just beside the stump, and held there. 

“I missed the mark. You try now. See if you 


144 





Ql=WJ A*''""'' 


Star Practising with His Spear 




can hit it.” Star picked up the spear and handed 
it to his friend. 

Little Bear took careful aim. He wanted to 
hit the stump, but he did not throw quite hard 
enough. The spear landed just this side of its 
goal. Little Bear knew that his had been the 
better aim, but he did not boast. Neither did Star, 
who had thrown the spear farther and had 
guessed the distance right. He knew that he had 
thrown the spear with the right force, and he 
wished that he had aimed a little more carefully J 

Little Bear picked up the spear and handed it 
back to his friend. “We must try again,” he said. 
“We have not practiced enough during the cold 
moons.” 

“One of the hunters will take us out to throw 
the spear soon,” Star reminded his friend. “We 
must be ready when he does.” 

The boys walked on and soon were at the place I 
where they had helped to make the new boats. 
There the beautiful dugouts waited, ready to be 
put into the water as soon as the sun loosened 
the icy fingers of the Manito of the North. The 
boys stopped to admire them. When the rays of j 
the sun were warm enough to melt the ice, they 
would also be warm enough to awaken Mother 

I46 


Earth. The Manito of the Earth would then send 
the sap up through the maple trees, and the boats 
would carry the boys and their families to the 
sugar camp. 

At last the boys reached the river. The ice was 
surely melting. Here in the sunshine there were 
so many cracks that it would be dangerous to 
walk on the ice. The hole that the boys had 
found yesterday was larger today, for the sun and 
the water had been working on it. The boys 
threw their bread offerings into the hole. The 
water carried them away under the ice. That 
was how the boys made their prayer to the Water 
Manito. 

As soon as the boys could find some bait, they 
would be ready to fish. There were no grass¬ 
hoppers. Those insects were still hiding from the 
cold. They had not yet awakened from their 
i winter sleep. Little Bear and Star tried to dig for 
worms, but the ground was frozen so hard that 
they could not break into it. Next the boys 
’ opened their bags. Each took a small piece of 
dried meat and put it on his hook. 

After the bait was securely in place, the two 
friends stood on the shore and tossed their lines 
toward the hole in the ice. Both hooks fell into 


147 


the water on the first throw. The boys were ex¬ 
cited. They hoped that the fish were hungry. 

The sun rose higher and higher. The warm 
air whispered that the Sugar Moon was coming 
soon. That was a wonderful time. It was a moon 
full of fun and happiness. While the boys sat on 
the river bank in the sunshine, they talked of all 
the things they were going to do at the sugar 
camp. 

The two boys waited patiently. Their feet 
were getting cold. The snow was damp, and 
the ground under it was icy cold. They stamped 
their feet and exercised their arms. Once they 
ran a short way up the river to get warm. There, 
in a shaded spot that the rays of the sun could 
not reach, the ice was still thick and firm. When 
the boys wanted to fish in the winter and the ice 
was solid like this, they chopped a hole through 
the ice, dropped their baited hooks into the hole, 
and then squatted at its edge, waiting for a bite. 

Now the sun had passed over the heads of 
Star and his friend. It was on its way to the 
western sky, but the boys would not be discour¬ 
aged. They still hoped to catch at least one fish. 

Finally Little Bear said to Star in an excited 
but hushed voice, “Look! Something is trying 

I48 




The First 


Fish of the Season 








to get my bait. Do you suppose I can hold on?” 

“Be very careful,” warned Star. “You must 
not let it get off your hook.” 

Little Bear pulled in his line very slowly. 
There, on the end of it, wriggled a fine fish. At 
last Little Bear had the fish out of the water and 
on the shore, safely landed. 

Star was so interested in Little Bear’s catch 
that he forgot about his own line until his atten¬ 
tion was called back to it. 

“Now you have a bite, Star,” said Little Bear. 

Star firmly tightened the line that he had al¬ 
most forgotten and pulled very slowly. He 
wanted to pull hard, but he was afraid the fish 
would get away. Soon Star had his fish out of 
the hole and onto the ice. There it flopped 
around, but it was safe. As soon as he could, 
Star pulled his catch to the shore. 

Both boys were proud. But they did not run 
right home as they would have liked to do. That 
would have been exactly what a little boy would 
do. Little Bear and Star did not think that they 
were little boys any more. They were hunters. 
They had caught the first fish of the season! 

The boys stayed at the river until the shadows 
told them that it was getting late. Then each 


150 


1 boy picked up his fish. Star had caught two; 
Little Bear, one. They each broke a twig from 
a bush, on which to carry their fish. Each twig 
had a fork at one end so that the fish could not 
slide off. 

Carrying the sticks over their shoulders, Star 
and Little Bear started for the village. Of course, 
they had to stop and show their catch to all the 
boys they met. It would have been fun to put 
the fish on the end of sharp sticks and broil them 
over a fire. The boys thought of that, but in¬ 
stead they took the fish to their homes. 

When they entered the wigwams, their moth¬ 
ers were preparing the evening meal. Their 
fathers were sitting near the fire. Each boy 
handed a fish to his father. The father slowly 
stood up. He held the fish in his hand for a 
long moment. Then he threw it into the flames. 
The first fish of each season was always offered 
to the Manito of the Water. Little Bear watched 
the smoke from his burning fish rise and go 
out of the smoke hole. The time for fun always 
seemed near when that offering was made. 






TRAINING BOYS FOR MANHOOD 


The days were passing very slowly. At least 
that is what the boys and girls of the Indian vil¬ 
lage thought. They could hardly wait until it 
was time for the Sugar Moon to come. The girls 
seemed even more eager than the boys. The 
boys had fun all through the cold moons. Most 
of that time the girls worked inside, but they 
loved to play out-of-doors, too. At the sugar 
camp all the work was play, and they were out¬ 
side all the time. There the girls did all the 
things that the boys did except shooting with the 
bows and arrows and throwing the spear. They 
did not like to do that. 

It was so nearly time for the Sugar Moon now 
that there was no longer enough sugar for every¬ 
one to eat all he wanted. Each Indian family had 
to use it sparingly. The mothers gave each mem¬ 
ber of their families only a little sugar each day, 
hoping to make their supplies last until the new 
sugar was made. 

To help pass the time, Little Bear and Star 
wandered down to the village camp for boys. 

152 


This camp was for boys who had no parents or 
whose parents were very poor. Such boys were 
adopted into other families. The boys lived in a 
large community house, which was built for 
them near the river. This long house was cov¬ 
ered with skin instead of bark. Inside it was dark. 
There were no openings except a low doorway 
on one side and a smoke hole in the top. Each 
of these boys had his hair shaved on the sides of 
his head. 

The boys lived under the direction of a cap¬ 
tain selected by the older men of the village. A 
hunter of the tribe was appointed to do all the 
hunting for this camp. Another man dressed the 
game. It was the duty of two women to prepare 
the cornmeal. But, they did not cook it for the 
boys. They gave it to the captain, and he gave 
each boy his share. 

Little Bear and Star liked to watch while the 
boys were being trained. As they reached the 
bank of the river, they saw two small boys run 
out of the long house. The little fellows had no 
clothes on. They ran to the river and, without 
hesitating, jumped into the cold water. It was 
still cold, the kind of cold when the Manito of 
the Air sends rain instead of snow. Little Bear 


i53 


and Star shivered when they saw the boys plunge 
through the thin ice and into the water. 

The little boys did not stay in long. They 
jumped up and down a couple of times and 
then climbed out and ran as fast as they could 
to the house and the fire. Their captain was 
waiting for them. He rubbed first one and then 
the other until both were warm again. Then two 
more boys ran and jumped into the cold water. 
The two boys who had gone first helped to rub 
the next pair. This went on until all the boys 
had had a cold dip. 

Next the boys stood in a long line. The cap¬ 
tain handed each boy a long stick with one 
pointed end. Then he gave each a piece of meat. 
The boys broiled the meat over the hot fire. 
After they had eaten the meat, the boys again 
formed a long line. The captain mixed some 
cornmeal into dough. He rolled it into balls, 
which he tossed to the boys. 

The boys had to watch very closely. Each one 
had to catch his ball of cornmeal dough on the 
end of his sharp stick. This was done to train 
the boys’ eyes. It was also done to make their 
hands work quickly. If a boy did not catch his 
ball of dough on the stick, he could not have it. 


154 


That was his punishment. When all the balls of 
dough had been distributed, the boys sat down to 
roast their bread and eat the food that was wait¬ 
ing for them. 

After the meal was over, the boys were given 
a piece of dough to toss to each other. They 
were all glad of the opportunity to practise catch¬ 
ing it on the end of their sticks. It did not take 
any of them long to learn how. No one liked to 
eat his food without the good corn bread. 

These boys, too, learned all the things they 
should know when they would become warriors 
and hunters. They were taught to use the bow 
and arrow. They also learned to throw a spear. 
Their captain instructed them in the ways of the 
wood folk. They learned how to hide on the 
ground under leaves or behind a log so that no 
enemy could find them. To practise, they would 
hide from one another. 

Sometimes the captain took the boys into the 
wilderness to teach them to hunt. Then he would 
point to a log, a tree stump, or even a red leaf 
and say to one of the boys, “There is your game.” 
That boy would take careful aim with his bow 
and arrow. If he hit the mark, he would be re¬ 
warded with a piece of corn bread. 


i55 








Practising with Bow and Arrow 






















The captain often told the boys to draw in a 
deep breath. “Hold it!” he would command. 
Then he would tell the boys to run as far as they 
could without taking another breath. The boys 
had to run fast. As soon as a boy lost his breath, 
he had to stop. That was fun, and it was done 
to make the boys long-winded. Little Bear and 
Star liked that game and joined in whenever the 
captain invited them. 

Today the boys played the game of surprise- 
a-hunter, and Star and Little Bear played with 
them. The captain selected a boy. He pointed 
out to him a real hunter, looking for game in 
the forest. 

“Surprise that hunter,” the captain directed 
the boy. 

The boy ran and hid himself. Then he crept 
ahead very carefully. If he made even a little 
noise, the hunter would hear him, for a hunter’s 
ears are always listening and his eyes are always 
watching. This was a very dangerous game be¬ 
cause the hunter might think an animal was 
following him and send an arrow in the direc¬ 
tion of the noise. Hunters travel very slowly 
when they are searching for meat. This is what 
gave the boy a chance to catch up with him. 


i57 


Quietly the little boy moved along among the 
trees until he was very close to the hunter. Then 
he spoke out before the hunter could shoot. 

“Here I am,” the boy said very softly. “I 
have surprised you. Do you think I should have 
a reward?” 

“My son, you have done well to surprise me,” 
replied the hunter. “Here is a reward for you.” 

The man reached into his bag and handed the 
boy a piece of dried meat. Sometimes the hunters 
gave the boys who surprised them some of the 
cornmeal that they carried with them. 

When the boys at the camp grew to be four¬ 
teen or fifteen years of age, they were taken on 
real hunts. At these times the captain watched 
each boy and afterward chose the best hunter 
to help train the smaller boys. Of course, each 
boy hoped he could be a helper. 

Later on, when the boys were old enough, 
they would go off to make the great fast. It was 
then that each boy would have the great dream. 
In this dream he would meet his helper, from 
whom he would take his name for life. The In¬ 
dians believed that the Great Spirit sent this 
dream. The helper that came in this sleep would 
be that Indian’s totem through life. He would 
158 




cut this totem out of stone, bone, or wood and 
carry it with him always. It would be his good- 
luck token. If he were in trouble, he would call 
upon this totem to help him. 

A great fast, whether by one of these camp 
boys or a boy who lived at home, was always 
followed by a feast. At it a feather was placed 
in the boy’s scalp lock, and he was taught the 
war whoop of his people. From that time on the 
boy would be a warrior and could use the war 
cry, “Husca-N’Lenape-Win,” which means, 
“Truly I am a Leni-lenape!” 

Star and Little Bear played until the shadows 
grew long. Then they started for home. On 
the way they talked about the boys at the camp. 
Star and Little Bear did not think they would 
like to have someone plan everything for them. 
They liked to watch the boys and join in the 
games—that was fun—but they were glad that 
they could return to their own wigwams to sleep. 
They also preferred the food their mothers fixed 
for them. Little Bear and Star were sorry for 
these boys who had no fathers or mothers to wel¬ 
come them to their homes. 

On another day when Star and Little Bear 
were on their way to the boys’ camp, they heard 


i59 


the crushing and grinding of ice. The ice on 
the river had really started to break at last and 
was hurrying on its way to the great salt water. 
Soon the first great ice floe would be gone. 
Then the Indians would start for the sugar camp. 

Little Bear and Star quickly ran back to the 
village to spread the glad news. Soon other boys 
gathered on the banks of the river with their 
fathers. They liked to hear the noise. It meant 
that the cold moons had passed. The water was 
freeing itself of the ice that had held it prisoner 
for such a long time. 

The boys and the men listened to the angry 
voice of the ice. It was scolding and grumbling. 
It was trying to fight against an enemy that was 
constantly pushing and carrying it to the great 
salt water. The boys never tired of watching. 
The great chunks of ice rose, fell, and piled up, 
but were always driven on. They could not stop 
for a moment. 

At night the men and the boys went home to 
eat and sleep, but early in the morning of each 
day, most of the young people ran back to the 
river. The men came down often to see how 
much ice was still being carried on the water. 
It seemed as if the ice would never be gone. 

160 


Then, one morning, they saw that only small 
cakes of ice were passing. The ice had given 
up the fight. The sun and the water had con¬ 
quered it. 

A few mornings later Little Bear was awak¬ 
ened by the sounds of his mother and father 
moving about. It was very early. The sun was 
not yet awake. He lay in his bed a moment and 
watched his parents. They seemed very busy. 
He saw his father take down his paddles. 

“Can it be that they are packing?” thought 
Little Bear, and quickly jumped out of bed. 

“Are we packing?” he asked his mother, who 
nodded without stopping her work. 

“Then I shall help,” said Little Bear. 

In each wigwam it was the same. The women 
packed and carried to the shore all the things 
they would need at the maple sugar camp. They 
had to make several trips. Little Bear, Star, and 
the other boys helped all they could. They were 
in a hurry to start. 

At the river the fathers pushed their dugouts, 
the boats they had made, into the water, where 
they loaded them. When everything was packed, 
the women and children got into the boats. Then 
the men got in. With their long poles the men 
161 



pushed the boats away from the river shore. 

The trip to the sugar camp had begun. The 
men slowly pushed the boats up the river with 
the long poles. They always stayed near the 
banks of the river, where the water was usually 
shallow. But sometimes the water was deep even 
there, and then the poles would not reach the 
bottom. At those times the men put the poles 
aside and used the paddles they had brought 
along. 

The Indians traveled all day. When they were 
hungry, they ate dried meat and corn bread. The 
women had packed enough in their bags to last 
until camp was made. 

Just before the sun went to rest, the Indians 
reached the maple grove. Last year’s houses 
were still standing in the camp. The wind had 
torn off parts of their coverings, and the animal 
people had made their homes in some of them, 
but that did not matter. 

The boys helped their fathers patch the wig¬ 
wams and frighten away the wood folk, while 
the girls hurried to gather wood. The women 
unpacked the dugouts. It was not long before 
fires were burning and food jars were beginning 
to sing. 



The voice of the food jar, singing its song of 
the food that was boiling, made the children feel 
happy. The little Red People liked that song. 
They were hungry. The air was still cold. There 
was frost at night, and the warm fires felt good. 
The children stayed close to them until the even¬ 
ing meal was ready. Then the sachem made a 
prayer to Gitche Manito and to the four Manitos 
of the Winds. Everyone prayed for good weather 
while the maple sugar was being made. 

The woodland was awake. It echoed the joy¬ 
ous shouts of the children as they followed their 
fathers from tree to tree. The men tapped both 
hard and soft maples. The soft maple trees gave 
more sap, but it was not so sweet as that from the 
hard maple. 

The boys watched closely while their fathers 
tapped the trees. They knew that they would 
have to do this some day, and this was the time 
to learn how. First the father made a cut into the 
tree. Then he put into the cut a wedge that he 
had ready for that purpose. The wedge closed 
the cut until the Indians were ready to catch the 
sap. Not a drop could be wasted. 

After a number of trees had been tapped, the 
boys helped their fathers put buckets under the 
163 



cuts they had made in the trees. As each bucket 
was placed, the father pulled the wedge from 
the cut and forced into it a bark funnel. Then 
the sap began to drip. 

It took a long time for a bucket to fill. As soon 
as one was full, another was put in its place. 
The children cheerfully carried the full buckets 
to their mothers—and each time they came in 
with a bucket, tasted the delicious syrup. Each 
family had its own boiling pots, and the children 
tried to keep them full. The women stirred the 
boiling syrup with great spoons made of tortoise 
shell or of wood. It took many, many buckets 
of sap to make sugar, and the children were al¬ 
ways happily tired when the sun said good night. 

While the women were making the sugar, the j 
men went hunting or fishing. The boys prac- j 
tised with their bows and arrows or spears while 
they waited for the buckets to fill. The girls 
gathered wood. When it was time to put the 
wedges back into the trees and stop the flow of 
sap for the night, there were always great piles 
of wood, waiting to be carried to camp. The 
boys helped the girls carry it back. In that way 
everything was ready in the morning, and the 
women could go right on with their sap-boiling. 

164 





Gathering Sap for Maple Sugar 








Little Bear and Star and all the other Indian 
boys watched constantly for signs of the animal 
people. One day while they were waiting for 
their buckets to fill, they walked to the river. 
They thought it must be almost time for the shad 
to leave the salt water. Shad always go up fresh 
water streams to spawn. 

“Do you know what this means?” asked Star 
pointing to a pile of fish bones on the bank of 
the river. They were picked so clean that not 
even a scrap of flesh remained on them. 

“Yes,” replied Little Bear. “A mink must live 
near here.” 

The mink is a very savage inhabitant of the 
wilderness. If he finds a muskrat in a nicely 
built home, the mink will crawl into it and de¬ 
stroy the muskrat and his whole family. Then 
the mink will start housekeeping and make the 
muskrat’s house his home. If the boys had ar¬ 
rived sooner, they might have seen the mink 
eating his early morning meal. 

The boys could not stay away long enough to 
hunt the mink. They had to go back and take 
care of their buckets. Besides, they were watch¬ 
ing for their fathers to return from a hunt. The 
deer in the forest were still wearing their warm 
166 


coats of gray, and the bucks had little knobs on 
their heads instead of horns. The hunters kept 
the camp supplied with plenty of fresh meat. 

The Sugar Moon passed quickly. Soon it had 
come and gone. It had brought the good times 
that the children had looked forward to. Now 
it was going to sleep until another year came to 
awaken it. But the happy memories would not 
sleep with the Sugar Moon. 

The Indians had harvested a good crop of sap 
and now had a fine supply of new maple sugar. 
The buds on the trees were beginning to swell, 
and Mother Nature had awakened. The men 
pushed wedges firmly into all the cuts they had 
made in the trees. Sap gives trees their life. If 
a tree should lose too much sap, it would die. 

The Indians tapped many trees but were al¬ 
ways careful never to let any one lose too much 
sap. The women started to pack the boats. The 
children were sorry to leave the sugar camp. 
This had been a moon of good times, and be¬ 
sides, they could eat all the sugar they wanted 
while they were at the camp. 

When the boats were packed and everyone 
had gotten into them, the men started to pole the 
dugouts down the river. The Spring Moon 
167 





had come and was awakening Mother Earth. 
She touched the bushes and the tiny buds, and 
they became alive. The bushes along the banks 
were beginning to look red, and the buds were 
swelling on the willow trees. As the Indians 
traveled along, they often saw muskrats on the 
shore. Squirrels and chipmunks were playing 
in the sunshine. 

The river helped the men take their boats back 
to the village. Father Sun did not go to his wig¬ 
wam so early any more. He was still watching 
when the men pushed the boats onto the shore. 
The children forgot to be sad as they scrambled 
out of the boats. They picked up loads and 
helped carry them to the village. Then they ate 
their evening meal. The fathers made their 
prayers of thanks to the great Gitche Manito, 
and soon the village was quiet. The tired people 
were at rest in their own homes again. 








THE FISHING CAMP 

For many days the grown people of the vil¬ 
lage, as well as the children, talked of nothing 
but the sugar camp. Some of the old people and 
the boys at the camp near the river had stayed 
at home. They wanted to hear about everything 
that had happened in the forest. Those who had 
gone to the maple grove had made sugar enough 
for the people who had stayed and taken care 
of the village. 

The Spring Moon was fast growing old and 
before long would follow the Sugar Moon to 
its rest. Then the Planting Moon would awaken 
and rise in the east. The only snow still to be 
found was in tiny piles that clung to the north 
side of rocks. That snow was hiding where the 
sun could not find and destroy it. Baby leaves 
| were bursting the little blankets that had kept 
; them warm for so long. Mother Earth was wide- 
i awake. 

■ Every day the women went out to look at the 
I white oak trees and the hazel bushes. They did 
not want to be late with their planting. When 
169 



the leaf of the white oak tree was as large as the 
ear of a tiny field mouse, it was time for the 
women to go to the fields. The first blossoms of 
the hazel bush also told them that planting time 
had come. And when the whippoorwill came 
back from the south, they knew that it surely 
was time to put in the corn. 

It was not many days before the whippoorwill 
was calling, “We-Ko-Lis!” Little Bear and Star 
heard him. He began slowly, and then he called 
faster and faster. He seemed to be excited. Per¬ 
haps he was worried because planting had not 
yet been started. All the Indians knew that 
We-Ko-Lis was saying, “Plant your corn! Plant 
your corn! Plant your corn!” 

The women went out at once to prepare their 
fields. They set fire to the grass and brush. This 
was done to destroy any small vermin that might 
have made those fields their homes. The women 
also burned off the big meadowland so that there 
would be plenty of grass for the deer to feed 
upon. We-Ko-Lis called more and more im¬ 
patiently every day until at last the ground was 
ready for planting. 

Little Bear and Star watched their fathers 
make prayers to Kick-er-on, the hero god who 


170 


gave corn, beans, and squash to these Red Peo¬ 
ple. Kick-er-on was the hidden spirit of the 
universe. These Indians believed him to be the 
light, the action, and the energy that governed 
everything. He was represented by the tortoise 
i totem. 

Early the next morning the women and chil¬ 
dren went to the fields. They took with them 
their digging sticks and hoes. The hoes were 
made from tortoise shell or from the shoulder 
blade of a deer. The boys as well as the girls 
helped with the planting. The more quickly the 
work in the fields was done, the sooner the people 
could go to the fishing camp. That trip was as 
much fun as the trip to the sugar camp. Little 
Bear kept his mother’s hoe sharp. When he 
thought it was not cutting the hard ground even¬ 
ly, he rubbed it on a rough stone. He also kept 
his own hoe sharp. 

The men went off to hunt while the women 
and children planted the fields. Little Bear had 
watched his mother prepare the corn for her 
hunter to take with him. It was the blue, sweetish 
kind of corn. First she parched it in clean hot 
ashes until it burst. 

Then she brushed off all the ashes that clung 




to it. When it was clean, she put it into her 
mortar and pounded and ground until the corn | 
was a fine flour. When it was as fine as she could | 
make it, she mixed it with maple sugar. 

This mixture, which she packed into a bag, 
was not heavy for her hunter to carry. Nor ; 
would he have to stop long when he wanted to 
eat. If he were hungry, he would put just a 
little of the mixture into his mouth and take a 
drink of water. He did not need very much, 
and it took no time to prepare it. A small amount 
would swell in his stomach and stop his hunger. 

The men did most of their hunting in the early 
morning or just before the sun went to rest. \ 
When the sun was overhead, the men rested. 
Then they heated water and boiled their corn \ 
flour. They liked to have one hot meal each day. 

This was not a very long hunt. The people 
needed only enough meat to last during the trip 
down the river to the fishing camp near the great 
salt water. It would not take very long to get 
to this camp, and there the Indians would live 
on fish. The hunters knew just how long it would 
take to plant the fields, and they planned to be 
back from their hunt by the time that work was 
done. Then the people would go to the fishing 


172 





Preparing the Fields for Planting 












camp for a short stay, only until the moon when 
the hoe is used in the corn. When that moon 
came, the women had to be back in the village 
to watch their crops. 

As soon as the fields were planted, the things 
for the fishing camp were gathered together. 
There were fish nets, fish spears, hooks, and 
lines to be packed, and, of course, the boys as 
well as their fathers had to take their bows and 
arrows. It took a whole day to get everything 
tied into bundles. That night everyone went to 
bed when the sun closed his great eye. They 
wanted to have a good rest so that they could 
start early the next day. The boys hoped they 
would be floating down the river before the sun 
awoke. 

Little Bear stepped outside the doorway to 
look at the sky before he went to bed. He hoped 
it would promise a good day for the trip. But 
what he saw was disappointing. A strong wind 
was blowing a great black cloud toward the 
village. Little Bear hoped the spirit of the storm 
would go back to its wigwam before early morn¬ 
ing. 

The boy turned, and through the doorway saw 
that his father was making a prayer to the Manito 


174 



of the Air. Little Bear looked once more at the 
sky, hoping that he had been mistaken about that 
dark cloud. But it was still coming, and it looked 
heavier and darker than before. The cloud had 
an angry look. 

Little Bear slowly went to his bed. He thought 
he had been asleep only a few moments when 
he was awakened by a great crash! He jumped 
up. He could not imagine what it was that had 
happened. He saw his father standing near the 
fire. He was putting tobacco on the coals as a 
prayer. 

The prayer was to the Spirit of Thunder, who 
lived in a mountain cave. The Indians believed 
that this spirit rushed out of his cave and roared 
with his mighty voice to make himself heard. He 
made a great noise, but he became tired very 
soon. He never stayed long. 

Little Bear, like all the other children, was not 
afraid of the Thunder Spirit. He was always 
happy when this spirit awakened and rushed out 
of his cave for the first time. That was another 
sign that the Manito of the North had gone back 
to his home. The great voice told the people that 
! the warm moons had come, and the warm moons 
I were a happy time. 




Little Bear and Star were up early the next 
morning. The Thunder Spirit had gone back to 
his cave. The dark clouds had passed. Everyone 
was eager to start the trip down the river. It did 
not take long to pack the du gouts. Before Father 
Sun had climbed out of his wigwam in the east, 
the happy, carefree people were on their way. 

Little Bear and Star each took a place in the 
front of his father’s boat. Each was ready with 
his spear in case a brave fish dared to come close. 
Neither really expected to get anything. There 
was too much noise. 

It took most of the day to get to the fishing 
camp. While the men and women were getting 
the camp ready, the boys stayed on the river 
bank. As soon as everything was quiet, the boys 
lay down on their stomachs and watched the 
water. They had picked out a place where there 
were rocks. The boys leaned over the rocks and 
watched quietly until they saw a fish playing or 
feeding near them. Then one of the boys care¬ 
fully and slowly put his hand into the water. He 
moved his fingers very gently. 

The fish seemed to like it, and the boy was in 
no hurry. He let the fish get used to the soft 
movement of the water. As soon as the fish was 







very quiet, the boy made a quick grab and lifted 
it from the water. Indian children called this 
“fingering fish.” By the time the camp was 
ready, the boys had enough fish for the evening 
meal. 

The women needed fires over which to cook 
the evening meal, and the men set about making 
them. They had to start new fires, for they had 
brought no sleeping coals with them. The boys 
liked to watch their fathers do this. Besides, the 
boys themselves had to know how if they ever 
wanted to be hunters. 

Little Bear helped his father gather the soft 
inner bark of the cedar. Then the father took 
his fire sticks and rubbed them together until a 
spark caught into the cedar bed. He breathed on 
it very gently. As the spark grew brighter, he 
blew a little harder. 

Little Bear’s mother did not have to wait very 
long. A fire was soon burning under her food 
jars. Little Bear gathered some green sticks, and 
his mother fastened the fish between them. Then 
she put them over the fire to broil. 

As soon as the evening meal was over, all the 
children went to sleep. They had put in a long 
and exciting day, and they were tired. 

178 



Busy times followed. As soon as the sun got 
up, the men went to the river. On the first day 
they tossed their offerings of corn-bread fish into 
the water. This was a prayer for the success of 
the fishing trip. 

Weirs, or yards, were made by driving sticks 
into the mud very close together and filling the 
spaces tightly with brush. When the tide came 
in, the weirs were completely under water. When 
the tide went out, the fish that had come in with 
it were unable to get out of the weirs, and the 
Indians had only to pick them up. Men, women, 
and children joined in gathering fish, oysters, 
clams, and mussels. 

Some of the older boys fished with hooks and 
lines, and some used their fish spears. A net 
made from the fiber of the nettle, with stone 
sinkers to hold one side down, was also used. 
At night the men went out to fish with birch bark 
torches and fish spears. The men fished as much 
as they could in the short time they were at the 
camp. The people ate all the fish they wanted, 
and the women dried the extra clams, mussels, 
fish, and oysters. 

Most of the shells were carefully saved to be 
taken back to the village, where they would be 


179 




turned into beautiful ornaments and wampum. 
Blue wampum was made from the inside of hard- 
shelled clam, periwinkle, conch, and mussel 
shells. White wampum, of course, was made 
from the white part of the shells. There were 
fewer shells from which to make dark wampum; 
so it was valued more highly than the white. 

The shells that the women did not care to save, 
they carried into camp and, in the evenings, 
ground them into a fine powder. They mixed 
this powdered shell with their pottery clay, and 
it made very strong jars. 

The time at the fishing camp passed too quick¬ 
ly to please the children. Before they knew it, 
their mothers were packing for the return trip. 
This time there were long strings of dried clams, 
oysters, and mussels to pack into the dugouts. 
There were also large bags filled with shells, and 
jars of oil that had been caught as it dripped from 
broiling fish. 

The Indians would have had much more if 
the animal people had not been so troublesome. 
When everyone was away, the animal people 
came into camp and stole everything that was 
not securely hidden in jars. 

Just before leaving camp, Little Bear watched 

180 


his father make a sign. First he cut a large piece 
of bark from a tree. Then he carefully carved 
a turtle on the bare trunk. This meant that the 
Turtle People had been there. Then he made an¬ 
other mark to show the direction in which they 
intended to go. From this, a passing Indian 
would know which tribe had been camping 
there. He would also know that the band had 
returned to their village. 

The sun came out of his wigwam very early 
in the morning now, but even so he was not up 
early enough to see the Red People start on their 
journey home. They started before the night 
clouds had returned to their cave. It was hard, 
slow work for the men to pole the heavily loaded 
boats up the river. The boys did not attempt to 
fish this time. If anyone in the dugout were to 
move quickly, he might upset the boat. Then 
everything in it would be lost. The Indians did 
not reach home until after the sun had gone to 
rest. The trip to the Great Salt Water was over. 

When Little Bear’s mother reached her wig¬ 
wam, she took down the large piece of bark that 
was leaning against her door and immediately 
started to build a fire. She had been very careful 
to carry some fire sleeping in a piece of hickory 
t8i 






punk. It did not take long to awaken the sleep¬ 
ing spark and start the fire. 

In a very short time Little Bear, his father, and 
his mother were eating their cornmeal and maple 
sugar. Then the father thanked the Manitos of 
the Air and the Water for the safe journey home, 
and the happy but weary people gladly went to 
their beds. 


A LESSON IN HUNTING 

Early one morning Little Bear heard his fa¬ 
ther and mother moving about and talking very 
softly. It was before Father Sun had come out 
of his wigwam in the east. Little Bear was only 
half-awake, just halfway between dreamland and 
here. Through sleepy eyes he saw his father and 
mother walk toward the door. A quiver hung 
from his father’s shoulder. The feathered ends 
of arrows stuck out of the quiver. A bow was 
in the bow case. 

Little Bear was wide-awake in a moment. Was 
his father going out to hunt? The boy jumped 
from his bed in a hurry, hoping his father would 
ask him to go along. Little Bear ran to where his 
father and mother stood outside the doorway. He 
waited eagerly, but the father went on his way 
alone. Disappointed, Little Bear followed his 
mother back into the wigwam. The fire had not 
yet been lighted. It was dark and cheerless in¬ 
side ; so Little Bear went outside again and sat 
on his heels beside the doorway. 

Through the clear gray twilight of this early 
183 




morning, Little Bear could see his father, far j 
off in the distance. He was just starting up a 
narrow trail that wound in and out among big j 
boulders, but always led upward. The father was j 
not hunting. He walked slowly, his head bowed j 
as if in prayer. He climbed higher and higher i 
until at last Little Bear saw him step out on a 
ledge of rock. There he stood still for a moment. j 
Then he took off his quiver and laid it on the 
rock beside him. 

Little Bear stood up and took a few steps to j 
one side so that he could see better. He saw his 
father stand motionless, his arms stretched up- j 
ward toward the heavens. He was making a 
prayer to Gitche Manito. He was thanking the 
Great Spirit for his kindness, and for all he had 
done for the Indian people. He was asking the 
Great Spirit to give him courage and strength, 
and to help him lead his people wisely. Little 
Bear’s father had been called to sit at the council 
fire. The council had been called to make plans 
for the summer hunt, and the warrior was asking 
Gitche Manito to guide him at that meeting. 

When his father returned, Little Bear went 
into the wigwam with him. Now the fire was 
burning brightly, and the room was filled with 

184 









The Prayer to Gitche Manito 













the good smell of bubbling cornmeal and sim¬ 
mering meat stew. The little family sat down 
to eat their morning meal. 

“The deer are losing their gray winter coats,” 
the father said to Little Bear as they ate. “They 
are putting on their summer coats of red.” 

“The skin of the red deer,” Little Bear went 
on, proud that he remembered the lesson, “makes 
beautiful new clothing and summer moccasins. 
This is the moon when little fawns come to their 
mothers.” 

“You have remembered well, my son,” praised 
the father. “Today Star and his father and you 
and I shall go into the wilderness and have a les¬ 
son in hunting. I hope you will also remember 
well all that you learn today.” 

A happy smile spread over Little Bear’s face, 
and his eyes fairly danced. There was nothing 
that he liked better than a lesson in hunting. 

Little Bear and his father quickly finished the 
early meal and joined Star and his father in the 
village square. The four friends walked through 
the opening in the palisade, a line of tree trunks 
set close together and extending all the way 
around the village for protection, and soon they 
were in the wilderness. 


186 





“Run ahead and select what you think would 
make a good camping spot if you were off on a 
big hunt,” Star’s father said to the boys. 

The boys parted, and each went on alone, look¬ 
ing for a good place. At last Star gave the call 
of the owl. That was the signal the boys used 
when they called one another. Little Bear joined 
Star and agreed that the spot his friend had 
found was good. The boys called their fathers 
to see the place they had decided upon for their 
camp. 

“Now,” said Little Bear’s father when the 
four were together once more, “do you see where 
the sun is? We heard you give the owl’s call. 
If you were on the warpath and did that, you 
would accomplish just the opposite of what you 
intended. You would warn the enemy that you 
were trying to outwit. The owl is heard only in 
the evening, during the night, or early in the 
morning. You must never forget that. It is very 
important that you should remember the ways 
of the wilderness people. 

“This is a nice place to camp,” Little Bear’s 
father went on. “You are hidden by the trees, 
and you have selected a dry, open place, but you 
forgot to look overhead. Look at the branches 
187 




that hang over your camping spot. Do you see 
that dry limb? A strong wind might break it 
from its trunk. If that happened, it would fall 
into this open space, and, if you were asleep, it 
might hurt you badly if it did not kill you.” 

“There is plenty of water here,” Star’s father 
added, “but not much good firewood. Go and 
get some wood and start a fire. We can roast 
one of these birds while we rest.” 

Star’s father selected a turkey from several 
that he and Little Bear’s father had bagged while 
they were following the boys. Star and Little 
Bear ran off willingly, picked up the first wood 
they came to, and hurried back. 

The two men looked at the wood. It was 
young, green oak, walnut, cherry, and chestnut. 
The fathers shook their heads in disapproval. 

“This wood will never do,” said Star’s father. 
“It would throw sparks a great distance. If it 
were a dry season, it might set the grass on fire. 
Dry grass catches fire very easily and fire spreads 
very rapidly. It might grow into a forest fire. 
The wilderness and all her people suffer when a 
great fire comes, and the man people suffer too 
if the trees catch the fire. Be careful when you 
select your firewood.” 


188 


Wild Turkeys 






The boys hurried off to gather better wood. 
This time they were more careful and picked 
up only old, dry wood. Little Bear was careless, 
and a sliver of wood ran into his finger. It hurt 
him, but he bravely said nothing about it. 

When the boys returned with their arms full 
of firewood, Little Bear’s father said, “Now se¬ 
lect a place for the fire, and start it.” The men 
sat down to watch. 

The boys brought to their camping spot some 
of the inner bark of the cedar. Then they rubbed 
the fire sticks together until a spark fell into the 
dry bark. They blew the spark very gently until 
it was alive. Then they noticed which way the 
wind was blowing and were careful to build their 
fire so that the smoke would not blow toward the 
camp. Soon the turkey was roasting over red 
coals. 

The boys had remembered everything they had 
been told, and their fathers were pleased. They 
said to their sons, “You will make good hunters 
if you continue to remember all the things you 
are taught.” 

The smell of the roasting bird made the boys 
hungry. When the fire needed a little more wood, 
they promptly jumped up and ran off to find it. 


190 


Little Bear and Star were excited and happy. 
They quickly gathered any dry wood that they 
saw. As soon as they returned, they threw a 
piece of it on the fire. It burned well at first; 
then smoke began to rise. 

“You were not careful when you selected that 
wood,” said Little Bear’s father. “The wood is 
dry—it will not throw sparks—but the piece you 
put into the fire is half rotten. Rotten wood will 
always make a cloud of smoke.” 

“Yes,” admitted Star. “You have told us that 
before, and we should have remembered, but we 
were in a hurry.” 

“It is never wise to waste time,” replied Star’s 
father, “but you can pick up the best wood even 
if you are in a hurry. A cloud of smoke is never 
good.” 

At last the turkey was cooked, and the boys 
and their fathers sat down to eat. Besides the 
turkey, they had corn bread, which the fathers 
had brought in their bags. While they were eat¬ 
ing, the men told their sons many things that 
they would have to know in order to become good 
hunters and warriors. 

“You must never use the call of the owl when 
the sun is overhead,” Little Bear’s father again 




reminded the boys. They both listened closely. 

“Then we shall use the cry of the fawn when 
calling its mother,” said Little Bear. “We like 
that call, too.” 

“Yes,” replied the father. “That is a good 
call, and it can be answered with the cry of the 
mother. Every hunter knows, though, that the 
mother only answers her fawn’s call until the 
midsummer.” 

“In the evening you can give the call of 
We-Ko-Lis. Or at any time you may use the 
call of the timid bobwhite,” suggested Star’s fa¬ 
ther. “Another thing you must be able to do, if 
you are to become good hunters, is to tell by 
the sound what animal is prowling around your 
tent. The eyes cannot always see through the 
darkness, but the ears can always hear.” 

It did not take very long to eat the meal that 
the boys had prepared while they were studying 
to be hunters and warriors. The lesson on the 
ways of the wood folk had taken much longer. 
The boys had many questions to ask, and the 
fathers were always ready to answer. Now the 
sun was getting low, and the day was almost 
ended. 

The fathers watched while the boys put out 


192 


the fire. That was a most important lesson. When 
the boys were satisfied that their fire was out, 
the fathers examined it. They put their hands 
on the earth to find out if, by any chance, the 
flames had caught onto some old roots and 
burned into the ground. They found that the 
boys had been careful and that the fire had been 
put out properly. Then they all started for the 
village. 

On the way the fathers taught the boys to 
look for different landmarks. Such familiar 
spots would help them find their way home if 
they should ever become lost. 

All that the boys learned on this hunt was 
only a beginning in their schooling. There were 
many, many things to know about warfare and 
the hunt. Gradually they would learn all the 
signs of the woodland. They would also learn 
to tell by moccasin tracks left on the ground 
whether they were made by friend or foe. This 
meant many trips to the forest and many days 
of study, but the boys liked it. 

At the village the women and girls looked 
after the crops. Every morning before daylight 
they attended to their duties in the wigwams. 
Then they went to the fields. 


193 





During the day they gathered roots and herbs 
whenever they found any. These they stored 
away for future use. The juices of many plants 
supplied the women with dyes. Both the men 
and the women were fond of red. The women 
were never too tired to dig up the roots of the : 
Indian paint plant. This gave them their favorite j 
color. 

They also gathered the roots of the sumac 
and white walnut. These, when boiled together, 
made a black dye. To fix their dyes so that they 
would not fade, the women added the acid juice 
obtained by boiling the sweet-scented wild crab 
apple. 

Late in the afternoon the women and girls 
went home from the fields and prepared the 
evening meals for their families. 

When Little Bear and Star and their fathers 
returned, they found their supper waiting for 
them. Little Bear, at least, was tired and glad 
to sit down and eat. After the meal was over,! 
the little family stood up. No one was ever too 
tired to make a prayer to Gitche Manito. 

As Little Bear stood quietly, his mother 4 
noticed that he was holding a finger as though 
it hurt. The finger into which Little Bear had 


194 




run the sliver was aching badly. It hurt so much 
that he took hold of it and held it tightly. He 
was trying to be brave, but his mother had seen 
that something was wrong. When she asked Lit¬ 
tle Bear if he had hurt his finger, he told her 
what had happened. She looked at the finger and 
saw that it was swollen. 

“I can help your finger,” the mother prom- 
i ised. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.” 

The mother turned quickly and went outside 
the wigwam. She did not have to go far. Little 
blue violets grew all around her home. They 
were everywhere. The violet is one of the first 
flowers that Mother Earth sends with her mes¬ 
sage that spring had come. Little Bear’s mother 
dug up some of the little plants and took them 
into the wigwam. There she made them into a 
mixture, or poultice, which she spread on Little 
Bear’s finger. In a very short time the troubled 
! look left his face. The pain was gone, and Little 
Bear was happy again. 







A BEAR THAT WAS A COWARD 


The moon that told the women to raise the 
earth around the corn had passed, and the moon 
when the corn was in the milk had come. A 
party of hunters made their prayer to Gitche 
Manito, asking for success, and prepared to go 
on a deer hunt. Star’s father was to be the cap¬ 
tain. He was one of the best hunters in the band. 
Before Star grew to manhood, his father would 
teach him to be just as good a hunter. 

The men packed a generous supply of bear 
and raccoon grease to take with them. This was 
to rub upon their bodies as a protection from 
mosquitoes as well as from the sun. The hunters 
also looked at their tobacco pouches to make 
sure they were full. Each pouch was made of a 
whole otter skin. The skin was pulled together 
at the neck so that the tobacco could not fall out. 
A bag of corn flour and his bow and arrows com¬ 
pleted the outfit of each man. 

When the hunters were ready to start, Little 
Bear, Star, and some of the other boys ran for 
their bows and arrows. They were going to 

I96 



The Wounded Bear 












walk along with their fathers for a short distance. 
So it was that a group of hunters and a few boys 
silently followed Star’s father, the brave leader, 
along the trail into the wilderness. 

After a time Star’s father heard a noise. It 
was not very far from the trail. He lifted his 
hand as a signal for his followers to stop. In the 
silence of the wilderness they heard a low growl. 

“A bear,” said Star’s father just loud enough 
for the other men to understand. “Stay here and 
be very quiet.” 

The leader vanished like a shadow among the 
trees and thick underbrush. He crept along care¬ 
fully, watching at every step. Just ahead, look¬ 
ing through the trees and bushes, he saw a great 
bear hurrying toward a cave. “That must be 
his den,” thought the hunter. He raised his bow 
and sent an arrow toward the moving animal. 
The bear dropped; he could go no farther. The 
arrow had broken his back. The bear sent up a 
plaintive cry. 

The hunter did not send another arrow. In¬ 
stead he called the boys and led them to the bear. 
The group stopped in front of the wounded ani¬ 
mal, the boys standing a little behind the father. 

“You are not a brave warrior,” Star’s father 

198 


told the bear. “Only a coward cries. If you were 
a warrior, you would not cry like a woman. You 
would be brave. You know that we are your 
enemy. We know that you are our enemy. Your 
people and our people are at war. You have 
found that I am more powerful than you. If 
you had conquered me, I would have been brave. 
I would have passed like a warrior. You disgrace 
your people! You are a coward!” 

Star’s father then shot another arrow, and the 
bear’s spirit went to join the spirits of his fore¬ 
fathers in the Happy Southland. 

Turning to the boys, the hunter said, “Boys, 
did you notice how ashamed that bear was when 
I told him he was a coward? He did not cry. He 
changed to a brave warrior before his spirit 
passed to the Spirit Land. He did not want to 
be lacking in courage when he met his fore¬ 
fathers. 

“Now, you boys go back to the village and tell 
the men to come and get this bear. We are going 
on.” 

The hunters disappeared into the wilderness, 
with Star’s father again in the lead. The boys 
ran back to the wigwams and told the men what 
had happened, then went with them to get the 


199 


bear. When the bear was brought into the vil¬ 
lage, Star’s mother made a prayer. She put some 
cornmeal into the fire as a sacrifice to the spirit 
of the bear. Then the animal was skinned, and 
the meat was divided. Everybody was given a 
piece, and that night nearly every family in the 
village ate bear meat boiled with beans. 

The next day Little Bear, Star, and some of the 
other boys decided to go fishing. For a while 
they all were busy digging worms and catching 
grasshoppers for bait. As soon as they had 
enough, they met and planned to play going-on- 
the-warpath on their way to the river. Many 
of the games that Indian children played were 
really lessons that had been taught them. 

For this game the oldest boy in the group was 
always the leader. He was supposed to have 
the most wisdom. The leader started toward the 
river. One after the other, the boys fell into line. 
They followed single file, each carefully step¬ 
ping in the footprints of the boy in front of him. 
They must leave only one set of footprints. Then 
if they should get into enemy country, no one 
could tell how many were in their party. They 
threw stones to see who could hit nearest to a cer¬ 
tain mark, and they climbed trees to see who 


200 



QE UtpBimtj 



Receiving Instructions from an Old Man 




could find the first game. But this was not easy. 

When they reached the river, they decided to 
have a wrestling match. All the boys liked that 
game. It was a warm day, and the boys wrestled 
until they were tired. Then they jumped into 
the water to cool off. They played and splashed 
in it, picked up marking stones, and had a good 
time. They did not try to fish while the sun was 
almost overhead. 

When the sun was about half-way across the 
western sky, the boys took out their fishlines. 
They did not use boats; they stood on the bank 
and threw their hooks into the water. Then they 
sat down to wait for a bite. They were not sorry 
to rest. They had been playing hard, and really 
were a little tired. 

But no one said he was tired. Each boy wanted 
the others to think that he would never get tired. 
Fishing was fun, and also a good excuse to rest. 
The boys caught fish until the sun had almost 
reached his wigwam in the west; then they started 
for the village in single file, just as they had come. 

On the way back they were startled by a sound 
like rustling leaves. But it was summer, and the 
leaves had not begun to fall. 

“A rattlesnake,” the leader warned the boys. 


202 


The boys hurried away from the sound. They 
would not hurt a rattlesnake. He was their 
grandfather. He always warned people of dan¬ 
ger. A few days before, one of the hunters had 
been wounded by another kind of snake. It had 
not warned the hunter. The man had destroyed 
that snake and rubbed its fat into his wound. A 
rattlesnake is a true warrior. He would not at¬ 
tack without warning. His brother snakes are 
not so brave. They attack their enemies without 
giving them a chance to escape. 

Just before the boys reached the village, they 
met an old man. He raised his hand, and the 
boys stopped. Every old man in the village in¬ 
structed the boys. That was one of the ways they 
were taught that they must be brave and strong 
if they would be worthy of their tribe. No oppor¬ 
tunity was ever missed to impress that lesson 
upon the boys. 

“Hear what I have to say,” said the old man. 
“Always remember that you are a Leni-lenape. 
Never shirk a danger. Never forget a duty. Be 
cautious always, but never be a coward. You 
must never lie nor boast. You may meet with 
trouble, but never seek a quarrel. These are the 
teachings of your people. Follow them and every- 


203 




one will respect you. Sometimes you may fail 
in a duty that has been put upon you. You need 
not be discouraged. The strongest men some¬ 
times stumble. Just remember that you are one 
of the Leni-lenape people. I have spoken.” 

The boys waited for the old man to pass. They 
had listened thoughtfully to what he had said, 
and would try to remember always. Then they 
went on to their wigwams. 

Little Bear stopped at Star’s home. Before 
going on the hunt, Star’s father had started to 
make a new bow for his son. Little Bear wanted 
to see it, but when he saw that the evening meal 
was ready, he did not stay. He said good night 
to his friend and went on to his own home. On 
the way he passed Star’s sister, who was bringing 
in firewood. 

At his own home Little Bear’s mother was 
cooking something special for his and her meal 
that evening. She had brought home from the 
fields that day a few ears of tender, young corn. 
She scraped the corn from the cob and mashed it 
until it was like milk. Then she mixed it with 
a little very finely ground cornmeal. This bread¬ 
like mixture she rolled inside broad, green corn 
leaves, then pinned the leaves with thorns. 


204 


When she baked these rolls, she was very care¬ 
ful. She gathered especially for them good, dry 
oak bark. Oak bark makes a quick and lasting 
fire. When the bark was reduced to hot coals, 
she laid her filled corn leaves on them. 

Just as she was taking the baked rolls from 
the fire, Little Bear entered the wigwam. He 
was delighted with what his mother had made 
for him, and came at once to help her carefully 
brush ashes from the now crisp corn leaves. 
Then they peeled the leaves from the bread, and 
it was ready to eat. Little Bear let marrow, that 
his mother had taken from big deer bones, melt 
over his hot bread. He was glad that he had hur¬ 
ried home, for this was the first time this season 
that his mother had made such corn bread, and 
he did like it! 

“May I take some of this good bread to the 
old man who stopped and talked to the other 
boys and me?” Little Bear asked his mother. 

“Yes,” replied his mother, pleased. “I like to 
have my boy want to share his things with older 
people.” 

The mother handed Little Bear two cakes, still 
wrapped in warm corn leaves. Little Bear took 
them and ran off to make the old man and his 


205 


wife happy. He did not stay at the old man’s 
wigwam. He hurried right home, for he was 
tired after the long day of play. And he wanted 
to awaken early the next morning. All the boys 
had been invited to gather, then, at the wigwam 
of an old hunter. 

The old men of the village did not go out to 
hunt very often. The younger men provided 
them with meat and robes. The old hunters 
stayed at home and taught the boys the language 
of the wood folk. During the cold moons the 
children learned the stories of the Long Ago 
from the Storyteller. Summer was the time to 
learn of the hunt and of the wood folk. 

When the boys sat in the wigwam of the old 
hunter the next morning, he reminded them that 
the wilderness people were constantly alert. The 
wood folk knew that the man people hunted 
them, and they were always watching and listen¬ 
ing for man as well as animal enemies. The old 
man explained that the boys must learn not only 
to recognize calls but to imitate them so perfectly 
that they would be able to outwit an enemy of the 
tribe as well as the animal people. 

Then the old man taught the boys the call of 
the turkey. The boys also learned to quack like 
206 


a duck, honk like a goose, growl as the bear does, 
bark like a fox, and squeal like a rabbit in distress. 
All these things could not be learned in a day. 
It took a long time and much practice, and both 
the teacher and the pupils needed great patience. 
These were things that all the boys must learn 
and only good hunters could teach them. 

After their lesson was over, the boys hurried 
off to play. They ran races and practised with 
their bows and arrows. They played at hiding 
from one another. Sometimes each took a deep 
breath and ran until he had to breathe again. As 
soon as his breath was gone, a boy was out of 
the race. That was a good game. A boy who 
played it often would be able to climb moun¬ 
tains easily when he grew to manhood. He 
would not lose his breath and have to rest. 

When the men went on a hunt, this was very 
important. A hunter might lose his game be¬ 
cause he was not long-winded enough to follow 
it. Sometimes a hunter wounded an animal and 
it ran on and on, madly. A hunter would be 
despised if he let a wounded animal get away, 
for it might suffer for days and be unable to 
help itself. When a hunter wounded an animal, 
he followed until he found it. 


207 


All the boys wanted to become long-winded, 
and they played this game day after day. At 
first they could not run very far if they tried 
to run fast. By playing often, they learned to 
run faster and farther each day. 

The boys played until the sun reminded them 
that it was time for their evening meal. But this 
afternoon they did not go straight to their homes. 
The hunters had been gone for several days, and 
they might be coming home any time now. The 
boys ran to the opening in the palisade to see if 
their fathers were yet in sight. Far off in the 
distance the boys saw the hunters trudging home¬ 
ward. Each was carrying a heavy load. They 
had been successful on their hunt. The boys 
shouted the news, and all the people in the village 
came out to welcome the hunters. 

There was plenty of work to be done now. 
The meat had to be cut from the animals and 
dried. The skins had to be prepared for robes. 
Whenever there was an opportunity in the days 
that followed, the women and girls took out their 
long rib-bone scrapers and worked on the skins 
until they were clean and soft. The skins and 
meat had to be packed away for use during the 
cold moons. 


208 


The night that her hunter returned, Little 
Bear’s mother cooked squash that was now ripen¬ 
ing in the fields. She cut it into pieces, put them 
into a clay pot, and placed the pot over a very 
slow fire. She did not use much water. These 
Indians liked vegetables boiled in their own 
juices. She put a large leaf over the top of the 
pot so that the steam could not escape. 

All the Indians enjoyed the fresh vegetables 
in season, for they had had only dried ones to 
eat throughout the long cold moons, and now 
they ate all the fresh vegetables they wanted. 
The crops promised to be big enough so that 
there would be plenty left over to dry for the 
cold moons. 

After Little Bear had eaten his evening meal, 
he helped his mother. She cut squash into long 
pieces, and he hung them to a long pole to dry. 
The pole reached from one side of the wigwam 
to the other. When the squash was dry enough, 
his mother stored it in clay jars. 

Little Bear often wished that he had a sister. 
Star had one, and it was she who always helped 
his mother. Then, too, she often did little things 
to please her brother and Little Bear. The two 
boys liked her surprises. In return they would 


209 


often pick up a red marking stone for her or 
bring her a rabbit skin. She liked the little rab¬ 
bit skins. Her mother had taught her how to 
prepare them, and she was making a rabbit skin 
robe for herself. 

The Indians believed that if children learned 
to be kind to one another, they would not forget 
to be kind to their elders. Kindness was always 
encouraged. “If you always do what is right,” 
the old men often told the children, “the Great 
Spirit will let you live until your teeth are worn 
out, your eyes are dim, and your hair has turned 
white.” 



THE GREAT FALL HUNT 

The men were no longer sitting in the shade 
of the big trees smoking, nor were they playing 
games. They were too busy. The moon when 
the corn was in the milk was no longer young, 
and the time for the great fall hunt was drawing 
near. Every hunter was making and repairing 
bows, arrows, and spears so that he would be 
ready to follow the orders of the captain. 

Along the river and in the wilderness Mother 
Nature had prepared many gifts for her Red 
People. At this time of the year, besides work¬ 
ing in the fields, the women and children, and 
sometimes even the older boys, harvested these 
wild crops. The women and girls had already- 
gathered and dried many huckleberries and 
stored them in large jars. These were the berries 
everyone liked boiled in their cornmeal during 
the cold moons when the bushes were asleep. 
Now the cranberries were ripe and had to be 
gathered. 

There was two kinds of cranberries. One was 
found in dry places and on high bushes. The 


211 




other grew in the low swamplands on scrubby 
bushes. The women and girls picked those that 
grew on the high bushes in the places where j 
Mother Earth was dry. They did not like to 
wade through the dense undergrowth of the j 
swamps; neither did they like the snakes that j 
lived in those places. 

The boys did not mind either the wet or the 
snakes, for they knew that wild ducks and geese 1 
also lived in the marshes. As the boys worked in 
the lowlands, they kept their bows and arrows j 
ready and almost always took home a harvest of 
ducks and geese as well as cranberries. 

Wild grapes and plums were also ready to be 
picked. The mulberry trees were heavy with 
their ripe fruit. There were chestnuts, hazelnuts, 
walnuts, and butternuts, all to be gathered in 
turn before the cold moons. If the Indians did 
not take what they wanted quickly, they found 
that the squirrels, chipmunks, or mice had been 
there before them and that there were few nuts 
left. The wilderness people were just as busy 
as the Red People. They, too, had to gather and 
store food so that they would not be hungry dur¬ 
ing the cold moons. As they went from place to 
place to get the wild crops, the harvesters picked 


212 


The Council Naming a Day for the Fall Hunt 


and saved wild hemp and the seed pods of the 
milkweed. These were needed for the making 
of cloth, strings, and many other necessary 
things. 

After a happy day of work in the cheerful fall 
sunshine the women often boiled sweet potatoes 
for the evening meal. Sweet potatoes do not keep 
well; so the Indians had to eat all they wanted of 
them while they were in season. With them they 
especially liked boiled cranberries sweetened 
with maple sugar. 

One evening the women sat outside their wig¬ 
wams, sorting the fruits they had gathered dur¬ 
ing the day and enjoying the pleasant twilight. 
Children of all ages played in groups near by. 
The men were at a council fire. The council had 
been called to decide upon a day, and to choose 
a captain, for the great fall hunt. When the 
shadows deepened, the women called their chil¬ 
dren, and all went to rest. Not until morning did 
they learn the plans made by the councilmen. 

“Star’s father has again been named the cap¬ 
tain of the hunt,” Little Bear’s father told his 
wife at the early meal. “He led us in a successful 
hunt last year, and we hope he can do the same 
again. He has asked me to go over the hunting 


214 



grounds with him and help plan how to arrange 
the men. We shall do that today.” 

The hunting grounds were not far away. They 
reached from the river along the base of moun¬ 
tains for several miles. A high cliff called Deer’s 
Leap, that rose some distance back of the vil¬ 
lage, formed one part of the boundary. The two 
men walked over this entire section and decided 
where to place each hunter so that together they 
would form a ring around the hunting grounds. 

When the hunt was on, each man would walk 
and run toward Deer’s Leap, driving the animals 
before him. The circle around the animals 
would become smaller and smaller as the men 
advanced. At the end there would be no other 
choice for the frightened game but to plunge 
from the top of Deer’s Leap to their death in 
the corral built at its base. Star’s father already 
had men at work building the corral of great 
posts. If any animal did escape death from the 
leap, he would not be able to get out of this en¬ 
closure. 

Soon after the two men returned, Star’s father 
took all the hunters outside the village and told 
them of the plans for the hunt. 

“Listen!” commanded Star’s father, after as- 


215 


signing each man to his place in the ring. “This j 
hunt will take two days. Tomorrow each of you j 
will go to your place in the wilderness and spend j 
the night there. The next morning, as soon as the j 
sun peeps over the mountain, make all the noise ! 
you can and walk toward the cliff. No game j 
should be able to escape between you. Do your < 
part well. I have spoken.” 

That night everyone went to bed early, and all j 
were up with Father Sun the next morning. Just 
after the early meal, the captain sent word for 
the hunters to assemble outside the village gate. 
They arrived in groups of two or three, and 
sometimes more; or occasionally alone. Their j 
bodies looked smooth and glossy in the early jj 
morning sunshine, for each had rubbed himself j 
with bear oil as a protection against the weather 
and insects. 

Each man wore his quiver with its bow and j 
arrows slung over his shoulders, and carried a j 
bag containing cornmeal. Each also carried a j 
pouch in which were tobacco and his pipe. Later j 
on each hunter would make his offering of to- j 
bacco to the Great Spirit. While he waited alone j 
at his starting place, he would smoke and it 
would not seem so lonely. 


216 




Hunting at Night 


















When all the hunters had gathered together, 
Star’s father reminded them of the plans for the 
hunt and again told each one where he was to 
be stationed. It was important that this hunt be 
a success so that the village would have plenty 
of meat and robes during the cold moons. While 
the men were still in a group, the captain pointed 
to the heavens. There they saw a great eagle sail¬ 
ing through the air. 

The Indians believed that this was a good 
omen, a sign that their hunt would be successful. 
Then the group broke up, and each man quietly 
went his own way. The hunters were careful not 
to make any noise that would frighten animals 
away from the hunting grounds. 

The boys, Little Bear and Star among them, 
watched the hunters start on their way. Each 
little warrior longed for the time when he, too, 
would be old enough to go on the hunt. Little 
Bear and Star did not think of themselves as lit¬ 
tle boys, and they had asked their fathers how 
much longer they would have to wait before 
they could go along. They were told that they 
still had much to learn, that only young men 
who had brought in their first deer were invited 
to take part in this important hunt. The boys 


2 l8 



must first prove that they had learned and re¬ 
membered the lessons their elders had taught 
them. 

But the fathers did promise their boys that 
they would take them on a trip later. Their 
mothers could go along then, also. The boys 
knew that they would enjoy such a trip more 
than going on the fall hunt. They would learn 
more, too, for then they could follow their fa¬ 
thers through the forest and see just how to sur¬ 
prise a deer or a bear. They could also go on 
a night hunt. 

All Indian boys enjoyed hunting at night. Lit¬ 
tle Bear had already been on one such trip with 
his father. Now he told Star about it. 

“During the day,” he said, “we looked for 
tracks along the banks of the river. That is how 
| we knew where the deer would come to drink 
j and feed at night. When darkness fell, my father 
and I slipped into our dugout and let the current 
of the river carry us downstream along the shore. 
In that way we made no sound that might dis¬ 
turb the animals. When we heard a deer on 
shore, Father lighted a torch made of pitch pine. 
This lighted the shore for some distance, but 
it did not alarm the deer. They continued to eat 


219 


the grass, weeds, and reeds that grew along the 
bank of the river. Our boat drifted closer and 
closer to the shore until at last my Father could 
use his bow.” 

“I should like to hunt at night,” said Star. 
“I hope my father will take me on a night hunt 
when we are on our trip.” 

The hunters had disappeared in the wilder¬ 
ness, and Star and Little Bear returned to the 
village. For a while they practised with their 
bows and arrows. The village seemed quiet and 
empty with all the hunters gone. The two boys 
went to Little Bear’s wigwam and played qua- 
quallis. Little Bear’s mother saw that the boys 
were restless. When evening came, she told her 
son that he could invite Star to eat his evening 
meal in their wigwam. Star ran to ask his moth¬ 
er’s permission and was told that he might eat 
with his friend. 

That night Little Bear’s mother had a surprise 
for the boys. She had boiled green corn with 
little beans. The Indians called this combination 
“succotash,” and the boys loved it. It was a very 
special dish. With the succotash they ate pieces 
of meat roasted on the ends of sharp sticks which 
they held over the coals of the fire. The boys 


220 




enjoyed evening meals like this very good one. 

“You are growing fast,” Little Bear’s mother 
said softly as they ate. “It will not be long before 
you, too, will go off on the hunt. I will be proud 
of each of you, my sons, when you bring in your 
first deer. It will make me happy, and your moth¬ 
er, too, Star, to give the feast of the first game 
for you.” 

The evening passed very quickly, and it was 
soon time for the boys to part. Little Bear went 
outside the wigwam with his friend, and they 
bade each other good night. 

The next morning, the day of the hunt, the 
little village awakened very early. Everyone 
thought only of the hunters. As usual the women 
and girls went to the fields to work at their 
harvests. The boys went along today. They 
knew that their mothers needed them, and be¬ 
sides the day would pass much more quickly if 
they were busy. 

When the sun was directly overhead, all the 
workers stopped to eat and rest. The children 
were glad, for they were very hungry and a lit¬ 
tle tired. The men on the hunt did not stop to 
eat or rest. They drove the fleeing animals with¬ 
out once stopping. When a hunter felt hungry, 


221 




he just reached into his bag for a little cornmeal 
and took a drink of water. 

During the afternoon the children stopped 
working every little while to listen. They knew 
they would hear the hunters when the chase 
neared the cliff. For a time not a sound reached 
their ears, and they were content to pick the corn, 
beans, and squash. Later in the day they became 
restless. Suddenly Little Bear raised his hand 
and called to the others. 

“Listen!” he exclaimed. 

Everybody stopped work and was quiet and 
motionless. The breeze carried a faint whisper 
to the sharp ears of the Red People. 

“The hunters are coming!” Star shouted joy- 1 
ously. “They are nearing Deer’s Leap!” 

No one was quiet or motionless any longer. 
Everyone talked at once, excitedly. The boys . 
wanted to run near the cliff to see the end of the 
drive, but their mothers would not give them per¬ 
mission. They knew that in their eagerness the 
boys would forget about danger and go too close 
to the corral. 

The noise of the hunters grew greater and 
greater. They were coming closer and closer. • 
At last, looking off into the distance, the boys 


222 



saw game begin to leap over the cliff. The ani¬ 
mals came faster and faster, those behind push¬ 
ing the ones ahead of them. They could not 
stop. They had to make the leap. Deer, elk, bear, 
and even some buffalo were running together. 
The only animals to escape the hunt were a few 
wise bears and foxes that hid in their caves, and 
some wildcats that found safety in the friendly 
trees. All the others ran to their death together 
in an effort to escape the great noise and clatter 
that had awakened every echo of the wilderness. 

As the hunters drew close together in the drive, 
the captain sent some of them ahead to the corral. 
It was the duty of the men stationed there to see 
that no injured animal escaped to suffer. An 
Indian would follow a wounded beast through 
forest and water or over ice and snow, but he 
would not let him get away. Nor would he hunt 
an animal if he did not need the food. The Great 
Spirit would never be kind to him if he destroyed 
unnecessarily. The spirit of an animal would 
never forget an injury. Like the Red Poeple the 
animal people never forgot a friend nor forgave 
an enemy. 

The women skinned and cleaned the game. 
They tied the meat and hides into bundles that 


223 






Jr : 

■mm.: 

mm. 

i'x 




The Animals Leaping Over the Cliff 













could be carried easily upon the back with a 
pack strap. Long packing straps were fastened 
to a band that fitted over the forehead. This 
forehead band with the long straps attached to 
it was called a “tump line.” Long after twilight 
had fallen, men, women, and children still car¬ 
ried loads to the village. The hunt had been a 
great success. These Red People would not lack 
meat nor robes during the coming cold moons. 



225 


THE FEAST OF THE HARVEST MOON 

Soon after the meat was dried, the harvest 
work was over. All the crops were stored away. 
The fields lay stripped of their fruits. Gitche 
Manito and his twelve helpers had been kind to 
the Red People. They would have a time of 
plenty during the cold moons that were almost 
ready to come back. 

The women and girls now spent their time 
making warm moccasins and robes. They were 
very busy, for the new clothing had to be com¬ 
pleted before the Manito of the North again 
drove the woodland people into their winter hid¬ 
ing places. Winter moccasins were made from 
bearskin with the fur on the inside. They would 
keep feet warm even in the coldest weather. 

Some robes were made from the skins of otters 
and beavers. The hides were sewed together 
carefully so that all the hair would lie in the 
same direction. These robes would shed water 
during the rainy season. When the weather be¬ 
came cold, the fur side of the robes was worn 
next to the body. The soft fur kept the body 
226 


warm. Old women were making robes of goose 
and turkey feathers that they had saved from 
time to time. They wove the feathers together 
with thread made from wild hemp and nettle 
fibre. 

As the people worked, their main topic of con¬ 
versation was the coming Harvest Dance. That 
was a thanksgiving time, the time when all the 
members of the great Leni-lenape family gath¬ 
ered together to give thanks to Gitche Manito 
and his twelve helpers for the plentiful harvests. 

At last the council met and set the days for 
the feast. Messengers were sent to the Mensi, or 
Wolf, and the Unalachtigo, or Turkey, branches 
of the Leni-lenape, inviting them to be the guests 
of the Unami Tribe for the sacred Harvest 
Dance. 

At once all the people of the village laid aside 
their other work and began to prepare for this 
festival. For no other dance, not even a war 
dance, did the Indians make more elaborate 
preparations than they did for the Feast of the 
Harvest Moon. The women prepared great 
quantities of food. All of it would be needed. 
This ceremony lasted for twelve days and twelve 
nights, one for each manito. There was one 
227 




manito for each world through which these Red 
People would pass on their way to the Happy 
Southland. Their prayers were carried from one 
manito to another until the last one delivered 
them to Gitche Manito, the Great Spirit. 

The men sat in front of their wigwams, busy 
with a pair of mussel shells that had been sharp¬ 
ened on rough stones. Using these shells as 
tweezers, each man plucked every hair that grew 
on his chin, lips, and forehead. He was prepar¬ 
ing his face for the paint with which he would 
decorate himself for the dance. He did not think 
he would look well if his face were not clean 
enough to take the paint smoothly. 

After all the hair was pulled out, the men were 
ready to decorate themselves. Little Bear 
watched his father. First he spread a thin coat 
of gray clay over his whole body. When that 
was dry, his wife brought him a bowl in which 
she had mixed ground, brightly colored stones 
and earth with bear grease. The father dipped 
his fingers into this paint. With the fingertips 
he drew graceful, serpent-like streaks on his legs, 
body, and arms. 

He was more particular about his face. Very 
carefully he made a red spot on one cheek and 


228 


<aEUlpE'"‘'“| 


The Indian Artist 


a green one on the other. Then Little Bear’s 
father painted his eyelids, both the upper and 
the lower. He even decorated his nose and his 
mouth. As a final touch he tied to his ankles 
dried deer hoofs, which made a clanking noise 
as he walked. Little Bear thought his father 
looked very handsome. 

Each of the men was eager to outdo his brother 
in decorating himself. One warrior, who had 
been honored for his bravery, determined to have 
crossed spears tattooed upon his chest. He 
thought that would be a good ornament. He 
asked a warrior friend who was an artist to do 
the tattooing. The artist gathered some poplar 
bark, burned it to charcoal and pounded it into 
a fine powder. Then he drew a picture of crossed 
spears on the chest of his friend. Both men liked 
the picture. 

The artist next took some sharp pieces of 
flint out of his bag. Following the outline of the 
drawing, he scratched and scratched at the skin 
of the warrior. The flint, however, was not sharp 
enough to suit the artist, and he remembered that 
he had something much better. He went into his 
wigwam and brought out the sharp teeth he had 
saved from a fish. The way these cut into the 


230 


skin satisfied the artist. Although he worked 
steadily and carefully, it took a long time before 
he had the drawing scratched onto his friend’s 
chest. To finish the picture, he rubbed the pow¬ 
dered poplar bark into the open wound. 

The warrior sat before his wigwam while he 
was being tattooed. All that the artist did hurt 
the warrior very much, but the children who 
were watching thought he liked it. He smiled 
and told them stories while his friend scratched 
and rubbed. When the artist was finished, the 
warrior was very pleased. He proudly thought 
that now he would be decorated as beautifully 
as anyone at the dance; and he hoped the pain 
would be gone before the feast day came. 

Mother Nature was also preparing for the 
great day. She painted the leaves of the trees, 
the bushes, and even the tiny plants in the most 
brilliant colors. The entire wilderness was wear¬ 
ing its feast dress and its brightest paint. At 
night the moon was big and round. It lighted 
this whole Red Man’s world with its magic glow 
of mystery. Even the deer were ready to show 
themselves again. They were dressed in their 
winter coats of gray once more and wore beau¬ 
tiful new crowns of horns. The thanksgiving 


231 



spirit of everything and everybody filled the air. 

At the long ceremonial house everything was 
being put in order for the festival. A great post 
was erected in its center. At the top of the post 
four faces were carved, one on each side, so 
that it could see in all directions. Six posts were 
placed on each side of the council house, twelve 
in all, and a manito was carved on the top of each 
post. Skins and mats were laid near the walls 
for the visitors to sit upon. One man was se¬ 
lected to be the doorkeeper. 

Six men and six women were chosen to keep 
the sacred fires burning. The fires had to be 
started with fire sticks. The friction that made 
the spark was the symbol of pain, and everyone 
must suffer pain. The ashes had to be carried 
out of the council house through the west door, 
for the door toward the east was sacred. 

It was also the duty of these twelve men and 
women to keep the floor of the council house 
swept clean. For this purpose they used turkey 
wings. These people were paid for their work 
in wampum. 

The long ceremonial house was built from 
east to west. Its main door faced the east and 
was sacred because it faced the home of the 


232 


I Gitche Manito, whose wigwam was in the east 
‘beyond the place where the sun rises.” Out- 
! side the sacred door was a tall pole. On this pole 
ij the deer would be hung that would furnish meat 
I for the dancers. It was another duty of the six 
fi women to cook and pass the food. They would 
[ also have to gather up the bones and burn them. 
| No part of the food used in the sacred dance 
| could be left where an animal might get it. 

Early in the morning of the first day of thanks- 
f giving, boys perched in treetops, watching for 
the first guests. When they saw a band of men, 
| women, and children coming over the trail, they 
I quickly slipped down the trees and carried the 
I glad news to the wigwams. Soon the village be- 
I came a moving mass of happy people. Beau- 
| tifully decorated, the visitors walked about greet- 
j ing old friends. 

When it was time to assemble in the ceremon¬ 
ial house, the Turtle Tribe entered through the 
I east door and took its place on the south side 
of the house. The west side was occupied by 
/ the Tu rkey people, and the Wolf Tribe sat on the 
north. No one ever passed between the center 
post and the east door. Each was careful to 
walk to the right ©f the fires toward the north 


233 



side of the house and go to his place from there. 
At this harvest ceremony the men were per¬ 
mitted to smoke, but their pipes always had 
to be lighted with a coal taken from the sacred 
fire. 

When all the guests had taken their places in 
the great council house, the Feast of the Harvest 
Moon, the thanksgiving ceremony, was ready to 
begin. The Medicine Man was the leader, and 
he stood up to speak. A great silence crept over 
the assembled men. 

“We have gathered here to give thanks,” he 
said earnestly. “There is a Spirit who rules over 
all things, even over the sun, the moon, the earth, 
and the water. The twelve manitos serve him. 
He has sent us our chiefs, who are wise and they 
great courage. They teach us the things they 
have seen and heard. We have brave hunters 
and warriors. We have good and true mothers. 
Our children are attentive. They are eager to 
learn. They will grow up to be respected. The 
Great Spirit has smiled upon us. For all these 
things we are grateful. 

“We are thankful that we are at this thanks¬ 
giving feast. Many of our friends who were 
with us at the last Harvest Moon are missing. 


234 


They have gone to meet the Great Spirit. They 
are happy. They have joined their friends in the 
Happy Southland. 

“Our crops have been gathered. The fields, 
the woodlands, and the water have given plenty 
of food for our winter supply. The cold moons 
are almost here, and our needs have been pro¬ 
vided for. 

“Gitche Manito, for all this we are thankful.” 

The Medicine Man had finished his prayer, 
and he sat down. Next the orator of the great 
Turtle Tribe stood up to address the people. 

“We are here to thank the Great Spirit,” he 
began. “We reach out our right hand and call 
forth, ‘Oh-o-o!’ ” In a full, ringing voice the 
orator chanted the call twelve times. Then he 
went on. “Gitche Manito hears us. He answers 
our cry of distress. 

“Now for twelve days and twelve nights we 
are gathered together. There will be singing, 
dancing, and feasting. We will show the Great 
Spirit that we are happy. We will show him 
that we are thankful for his blessings. We will 
show the Great Spirit that we are thankful for 
his kindness. We do not forget where all we 
have comes from. If we are grateful and do not 


235 





complain, we shall go to him when we leave 
here and we shall hear him say, ‘Welcome home. 
You are my people.’ Then we shall be happy. 
I have spoken.” 

The orator sat down, and then the assembled 
men were given an opportunity to talk. A dried 
and polished tortoise shell containing pebbles 
to make it rattle was in front of the warrior sit¬ 
ting in the first place in the southeast corner 
of the council house. He picked up the shell and 
rattled it. 

As he stood to talk, the chanters, or singers, 
who sat at the south end of the council house, 
beat upon a dry deer hide. That was the signal 
to listen. The one who held the rattle talked to 
the people. He thanked the Great Spirit for all 
his kindness to the Indians. 

When he was through, he began to dance, al¬ 
ways moving to the right and around the fire. 
All who wished to dance followed him. When 
the dancers finally reached the center pole, they 
stopped and shook hands with the leader. Then 
they returned to their places. 

The warrior who had spoken then handed the 
rattle to the next man. If he cared to talk and 
dance, he rattled the tortoise shell. If he had 
236 



Entrance to the Council House 




nothing to say, he passed it on. In this way each 
man was given a chance to address the meeting. 

Orators repeated the traditions of their people. 
Some warriors told of their dreams or visions, 
but they did not call them dreams. They did not 
think of them as such. Those men always started 
their talks by saying, “There came to me this.” 
Then they told what came to them. Many told 
how they happened to have their own personal 
guardian spirits and showed the tokens that they 
wore around their necks. The old men gave 
advice to the younger ones. 

One old man stood up and told the young men 
that they must always be brave. “The manitos,” 
he said, “do not like a coward. They do not 
like a liar nor a boaster, nor one who seeks a 
quarrel. Live a good life, and when your shadow 
goes to join those of your fathers, Gitche Manito 
will meet you. He will say, ‘Welcome here. 
You are my people.’ ” 

At the close of the day a bowl of cornmeal 
was passed to everyone. As he took his food, 
each person said, “For this we are thankful.” 

Each of the following eleven days of celebra¬ 
tion were like this first day. And on each of 
the twelve nights an orator made a different talk. 
238 


They were talks of praise and encouragement. 
The orator reminded the men to work constantly 
for the good of all the people. Every night the 
warriors joined in the sacred dance, and then 
they feasted before they slept. 

When the twelfth day was growing old, the 
Medicine Man stood up once more. The assem¬ 
bled men knew that they were about to take part 
in the final prayer. Following the Medicine 
Man, the Indians filed out of the east door of 
the council house and formed a long line from 
east to west, facing the south. They bowed rever¬ 
ently twelve times. They thanked the various 
manitos and acknowledged their dependence on 
Gitche Manito, the Great Spirit. Then the meet¬ 
ing was over. 

The six men and women selected to guard the 
fires let them die down. They carried the ashes 
out of the door to the west. The ceremonial 
house was swept clean with the turkey wing 
brushes. The people of the village and the guests 
had started for their homes. The Feast of the 
Harvest Moon was over. 


239 























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